Complicated Family Issues
by McEvoyer
Summary: Set after 2x03. Both Emma and Snow deal with the aftermath of their moment in the nursery and the threat of Cora.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there! I didn't plan on writing another story for quite a while but I just had to write something after last week's episode; it was just so good! So anyway, I hope you enjoy what you read! :)**

**I do not own OUAT unfortunately. **

Silence.

Apart from the faint footsteps of each of them as they manoeuvred in the dark through the forest floor littered with snake-like tree roots, there was nothing but shrieking silence. Usually the lack of chatter would suit Emma, but following the moment she had shared with Mary Margaret back in her nursery, it felt misplaced. She couldn't describe what happened back there in that moment; it was like something else took over. Being vulnerable was not something Emma took pride in and over the years her ability to call upon her steely resources kept her protected, guarded, out of reach of anything to do with emotion. But now…now it was different.

Watching her best friend-turned-mother recall the life she had wanted for her and feel the love that that room embodied and symbolised was too much. For most of her life, Emma had trained herself into believing that she was never wanted, never loved. And as she bounced around from foster home to foster home, that belief was only underpinned and made true. No one had ever made her feel worthy or deserving of love; or maybe they had and Emma just didn't want to listen to it. She worked better alone – the only way she knew how to survive. But Emma knew now that she was loved, and more so than she ever thought imaginable. The way Mary Margaret looked at her with those tender, affectionate eyes made her heart swell and automatically sparked tears at the back of her eyes.

And yet they hadn't spoken a word since then and for the first time, Emma wished that they were talking. Her mother walked ahead of her, dancing lithely around the underbrush, clutching her bow as if anticipating an attack, every now and again glancing back to make sure Emma was still behind and not ogre food. Yeah, Emma didn't want that to happen again anytime soon. That was a moment that should never be relived. She was pretty sure that was the closest thing to true terror she had ever faced – and true terror had _really _bad breath. So, she was sticking close behind the brunette.

Further ahead, Mulan was strutting the way with her suit of armour swaying with her movement, her right hand gripping a knife while Aurora tried her best to keep herself warm – but to no avail. Even from a distance, the blonde could see the woman's shivering body. Emma didn't want to admit it but those two were growing on her. Despite the initial hostility and scoffing looks they each gave them over their choice of clothing, they vowed to keep them safe and help them return to Storybrooke. That was all Emma could ask for even though she was positive Mary Margaret – or Snow, whatever – was more than capable of keeping them out of harm's way. Or at least alive, anyway.

As they kept marching forward with no one uttering a sound, Emma became restless, needing someone to say _something._ And who better than herself?

"Hey, Mulan!" she called, attracting attention from the rest of the group…and the wildlife. It was as if her voice was a siren call; flocks of birds jolted from the trees into the dense night air and the hum of wolves howling resonated through the land. Maybe not her _best _idea. She really had to learn to be quiet.

"Emma, what did I tell you about ogres and sound? Haven't you learned anything from the gun episode?" Mary Margaret scolded with a heated whisper, as she twirled around and grabbed the blonde's arm before setting off again at a much quicker pace.

"I'm sorry, I forgot," Emma said, quickening her walk while letting her mother lead.

Mulan and Aurora closed the gap and the four of them stomped aggressively side-by-side, listening for any sign of ogre movement. Emma wasn't exactly sure what they were listening out for but she was so relieved when they seemed content to slow the walk to a stop. No ogres for the time being.

"Now," Mary Margaret started, seemingly regaining her patience, "what is it you wanted to say?" She laid a hand on Emma's shoulder in a gentle gesture signalling her apology for snapping at her earlier, despite having every right to do so.

"Yes, what was so urgent that you felt the need to raise your voice and put us all in grave danger?" Mulan sneered. It was true that the warrior was shedding her armour – so to speak – and softening somewhat, but there still existed this layer of sass that wasn't fading anytime soon. One minute it was like she was trying to forge some kind of friendship with them, the next she was rolling her eyes, unwilling to entertain their presence. She was a moody one, a theory only reinforced by the woman's defensive stance.

"Hey, don't talk to her like that!" Mary Margaret barked, her tone assertive and powerful. Just like a Queen's. Just another thing Emma had to get used to. No longer was the brunette timid; she was an authority figure who demanded respect, especially when someone got in her daughter's face. Emma hoped that her own assertive disposition derived from her, but she was aware that her attempts at garnering respect off others paled when compared to Mary's. Or was that Snow's? Ugh, so confusing.

"Well maybe if you controlled your daughter better I wouldn't have to talk to her like that," Mulan retorted, moving over so that her face was inches from hers.

"I was just wondering where we were going, that's all," Emma said weakly but her remark fell on deaf ears as the girls remained planted to the spot, locked in a staring competition. She and Aurora exchanged an uneasy glance. Both understood that letting Mulan and Mary Margaret face-off was not a good idea; not when they all needed to be united. What was that saying…united we stand, divided we...? Fall, was it? Emma wasn't one for mottos and all that sort of stuff. She never had anyone to be united with, so it never really applied to her of her life, but now it was the only thing that'll help them get back home to their family. Obviously, Aurora was thinking the same thing as at the same time, both she and Emma slipped in between the two fairytale characters who were almost ready to rip each other's heads off.

With a rather forceful shove, Aurora managed to push Mulan away, giving her a stern look. "You need to relax," she warned, narrowing her eyes at her new friend's brashness. "We can't be turning on one another."

"Sleeping Beauty's right; we gotta stick together. It's late and it's cold and we've done a hell of a lot of walking this past day, so I think we need a recharge." She traded a look with her mother who returned it with a shimmer of pride and a grateful smile. "So let's find a place where we can make camp."

"What did you call me?" Aurora paused, tilting her head to the side in curiosity.

"Oh, eh, Sleeping Beauty. That's what you're called back home. You're a very popular fairytale character."

"I am? Sleeping Beauty…that's clever." Her face broke out in an enormous smile, her eyes shining with some unknown emotion. Emma hoped she hadn't created an egomaniac.

"She _is_?"

"Well, you know…after Snow White," Emma appeased, somewhat amused by her mother's show of jealousy.

"What?" Now it was Aurora's turn to be envious and much to her dismay, Mary Margaret shot her a sly grin.

Foreseeing yet another verbal battle, Emma was quick to the mark and changed the subject. "So I think we should head out over there; there's plenty of trees for shelter." She pointed toward the edge of the forest next to a clearing. Still out of her element, she recognised the need for shelter and for a clearing; shelter for obvious reasons and a clearing in case something happened to go wrong and they were forced to make a break for it.

"Yes, she's right. It's too dark for us to continue and our situation could become precarious. Resting for the night is our best option." Finally, Mulan was making sense and the plan sounded better coming from her than a blonde chick in a leather jacket.

"Okay, let's go," Snow agreed, breaking her stare and placing a hand on Emma's back as she ushered her to follow Mulan.

* * *

It didn't take long for them to set up a place to sleep for the night once all the tension sizzled out. As soon as each of the nestled against the trunk of a tree, slumber consumed them. Snow didn't want to succumb to the thumping in her head until she was sure that Emma was asleep which she knew was silly. Emma didn't need her to sing her a lullaby or tell her bedtime story; she was old enough to close her eyes on her own terms. And if Snow was honest with herself, that was something that make her heart ache. The realisation that Emma would never need or want her to do anything like that for her was almost too much to bear. Seeing the nursery again and recounting the moments she always wanted to share with her daughter pulled her wounds wide open, leaving nothing but pain behind.

Just so much pain.

She never even got to spend one night with her baby and all of sudden, in the blink of an eye, that baby appeared and was now the same age as her, completely self-sufficient and guarded because of the life she had led. There was nothing Snow could do; no matter what she would ultimately never be able to raise her own child.

Of course, having Emma back in her life brought her untold happiness and made her heart beat again; there was no doubt about it – life without Emma, without her daughter, wouldn't be a life at all. Even being around her made her _feel _something again, made her want to live life and be the Snow White that she knew she could be. She made her want to be her mother. And though there were certain aspects of that role she wouldn't be able to fulfil, there was still a lifetime of things she could share with her and that was enough to dull the ache for now.

She peered over to where Emma had laid her head and watched as the blonde pushed back stray curls of her tousled hair off her face and snuggled into her jacket, her body ready to dive into the depths of dreamland.

Snow thought she was beautiful and looked just like her father as she lay there. She allowed herself to droop her eyelids and replay the moment they had experienced back in the nursery. Within a matter of moments she had drifted off, a small smile written on her face as they last thing she envisioned was Emma accepting an embrace from her mother.

* * *

The sun dappled through the leaves on the trees falling onto Snow's face and wakening her. The sun had begun its ascent and heated the air trapped above the ground. The brunette opened her eyes one by one testing the strength of the light. As her vision cleared, she saw Emma and Aurora sitting on a log having a conversation. Straining her ears, Snow tried to listen in and chuckled to herself when she realised that Aurora was asking Emma about her clothes. The princess held Emma's jacket at arm's length examining the stitching and testing the strength of the fabric before handing it back to the blonde and kindly refusing to try it on.

Snow used her hands to hoist herself to sit upright against the bark of the tree. She turned her gaze upward toward the sky and let its rays radiate off her skin. Today they would make the trip back to the 'safe haven' and rethink their strategy and hopefully avoid another encounter with the always lovely Cora.

She was so lost in thought that she didn't hear Emma approach and take a seat alongside her. That was until she spoke. "How'd you sleep?"

Startled, she faced the woman. "Surprisingly good considering I was leaning against the base of a tree. How about you?"

"Of all of the weird places I've slept for a night, this has to have been the most comfortable."

Snow laughed lightly. "That's good."

Emma looked down at her hands, her fingers locking and breaking over and over. The way her body stiffened alerted Snow that there was something she wanted to bring up.

"Are you okay, Emma?" she asked tentatively, her tone coloured with concern. What could have the blonde so awkward?

Without raising her head, Emma replied, her question taking her mother off guard. "Why were you so quiet yesterday after we left the nursery? Did I…did I say something wrong?"

The words were laced with an innate sense of worry which only served to amplify Snow's desire to quell any doubts in her child's mind. "No, Emma, of course not," she soothed, running a thumb across her cheek to which Emma didn't lean away from. "I was thinking, that's all."

"What were you thinking about?"

She had no wish to make the blonde fret, but there was no point in denying the truth; Emma was perceptive and would know if Snow shrugged it off as no big deal. Besides, did she really want to lie to her daughter?

"Being back in the nursery was more…painful than I realised," she sighed. "Seeing the toys we had purchased for you and the way the room was decorated…it reminded me that I never got to be the mother to you that I always wanted to be. I wanted to see you grow up and experience the world we lived in; I wanted a life fit for a princess. I wanted to be there when you took your first steps, when you spoke your first words, when you learned how to read and write or ride a horse or shoot an arrow." She stopped to compose herself and cursed the tears that filmed her eyes. This was the last thing Emma was to see but it was like it was a river flowing with nothing to obtrude its path. "Before we left I took one last look at the life we would have had. I saw the nursery in all its glory and it hurt. It all hurt. And my mind was crowded with so many thoughts and pictures of things we never got to do. I'm sorry my silence caused you to worry but you've nothing to worry about now, okay?" She articulated a pained smile, ignoring the streaks of tears on her cheeks.

By the look on her face, Emma wasn't buying Snow's attempt at a brush-off. But she didn't have time to respond as Mulan hurried over to them. "We must go," she said, adjusting her armour. "If we start moving now we should be back at the haven by noon."

Wordlessly Snow pulled up to her feet, offering her hand to Emma who took it with only minor hesitation. Progress. "Come on, let's get our stuff."

**So how was it? Pointless or good? I wanted to show both sides of the aftermath of the last scene of episode three because I felt that there was just so much to deal with emotion-wise and I hope that I've pulled it off. So please do review and tell me your thoughts – good, bad or indifferent! Looking forward to hearing from you! :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows and favourites! It means a lot :)**

The heat emanating from the sun scorched the earth upon which they walked and Emma found herself throwing off her jacket and flinging it over her shoulder as she followed the troop towards the camp. She wasn't sure if it was just her mind playing tricks on her, but it felt as though everyone else had picked up the pace – except for her. They were storming ahead, like women on a mission, determined not to let anything else slow them down. No matter how hard she pumped her legs and flung her arms, Emma could not gather enough momentum to keep her on par with the others. In fact it was almost as if the harder she tried, the more the sun beat down, the more sweat beaded her brow and the more her comrades moved away from her.

It also didn't help that Snow's words – yes, _Snow's _since those words would not come out of Mary Margaret's mouth - echoed around her head, reverberating against her lobes as she pounded the ground. If only Mulan hadn't interrupted at such a sensitive moment; for a warrior, she had terrible timing. It's not like an extra five minutes would delay them too much. And, it was pretty obvious that they were locked in a serious conversation.

She just wished they had a few more minutes.

The sheer heartbreak written on Snow's face as she fought back tears and explained how much stepping back into her old life affected her made Emma feel…guilty. Though understanding that nothing Snow was upset over was her fault, she couldn't help but feel guilty at her behaviour since arriving in this new place. She'd done nothing but push her mother away and insist that she was more than capable of fighting her own battles. She never realised that by doing so, she was hurting the brunette more than she could have ever imagined and that hardly seemed fair after everything she had given up just so she wouldn't be cursed.

Releasing her anger and shame on the ground as she pounded her way forward – finally gaining ground – and fixating her gaze on her mother as she conversed with Mulan about something or other, it occurred to Emma that she never gave thought to how the curse breaking would affect Snow and Charming. Her _parents_. Of course she knew they would have to adjust to their new life just like everyone else, but for the first time, Emma really saw how dramatic the shift in their lives was. Their baby was gone; replaced by a woman who locked away her emotions inside a box, who couldn't face up to the truth of her heritage. Who couldn't contain her resentment towards the people who loved her the most in this world, or any other world for that matter.

She had to find _something_, anything that she could let Snow be a part of. It wouldn't make up for all the lost time, but it would help both of them get a hold on their current situation. She had to least make an effort.

* * *

Snow had forgotten how intense the heat in the forest could be and her clothing – a white blouse and pink cardigan match-up – was not exactly doing her any favours. She missed the outfits she wore when she lived here; the types of fabrics used were so cooling during the insane, temperamental weather. But clothes from Storybrooke just didn't cut it. "How are you not melting in that?" Snow asked Mulan, gesturing to her suit of armour that covered her from the neck down. It sure did look heavy; not to mention rather suffocating.

Mulan shrugged and her metal clanked with the movement. "I don't feel the warmth. I've worn this armour for as long as I can remember; it's a part of me. Besides, anyone who is from here knows how to manage the stark rise of warmth in the day and the plummeting drop at night." Storybrooke was always so wet and windy; it never really saw a dramatic rise in temperature even in the summer months. Perhaps, Snow was less in tune with her home than she wanted to believe.

She had hoped that being reawakened would…magically…return her to her ways of old and allow her to embody her "_Snowness_", though that was proving more of a task than she thought. As time progressed and the more time she spent wandering the land of her past, the more she seemed to become more attuned to her old self. Her assertiveness began bounding out of her, her courage intensified due to the peculiar circumstances they found themselves in. Around Mulan and Aurora she could easily assume the role of a leader, of someone who could bring forth a people out of dreary and desolate times, but no matter how much her confidence burned when faced with obstacles, she feared she lacked any kind of sureness when it came to dealing with Emma. Emma, who was her daughter. Why was it so hard to communicate with her own child? Emma opening up in the nursery was a miracle, and came out of nowhere and, honestly, was _so_ needed. Snow had been trying but she just didn't know how to act around her; if she pushed too hard she'd end up driving the blonde further away than what she was already – which seemed like a whole different planet at times – yet she couldn't just sit idly by and pretend like nothing had happened. She had lost too much time with her to play it safe; nonetheless, she fretted she may have breached the boundaries of their relationship with her confession of how her heart broke under the recognition that she would never be able to be the hands-on mother she dreamt of being.

The last thing she wanted was for Emma to feel uncomfortable or unworthy of love just because she's an adult.

Wiping perspiration off her brow, she used her hands as a visor to block out the sun and turned around to see her daughter trailing behind them. She signalled for Mulan and Aurora to continue the journey as she waited for Emma to catch-up. While observing the way her daughter handled herself – she was noticeably becoming more like her father with each passing moment – a broad grin formed on Snow's face. Even her movement as she walked was very James-esque.

"What are you smiling at?" Emma asked breathlessly, finally reaching her destination.

Snow crossed her arms, smiling more widely. "You look like your father."

"I do not," she retorted before she even had time to process the words. There goes that defence mechanism again.

"Do too," Snow whispered teasingly as she turned on her heel and started walking again.

Emma grumbled, ignoring her mother. "Uh, can we not stop for, like, a few minutes?" she quizzed, holding her sides with her hands.

Snow rolled her eyes at the woman's tone. "We don't have time, Emma. If we don't keep going, we'll never make it back by nightfall so unless you want to spend another night out here keeping a lookout for ogres, I suggest we keep moving."

"Okay, not that I know much about this world – obviously, but why is it so important for us to go back to the haven?"

Snow shrugged. "We need a place to regroup, come up with a new plan. A place that's safe from any danger. And somebody there may have knowledge about magic and a possible portal back home. We can't assume that we'll be fine on our own; sometimes you need a little help."

"A place that's safe from danger?" Emma repeated. "But what about Cora? Won't she be back there waiting for us with her…fairy dust or whatever?"

Snow paused mid-step and raised her eyebrow, amused at Emma's bewilderment to the world they were in. "Fairy dust? Really?"

"What? I'm not familiar with the terminology."

The brunette chuckled for a brief moment before turning serious. "Cora has been practicing magic for a very long time. If she has been able to transform herself and pose as another without anybody knowing, who knows what she is capable of; but I think the haven would be the last place she would vanish to. She wouldn't risk it, not when she knows that we're on high alert."

The thought of Cora on the loose, casting spells and shape shifting unnerved Emma and while she'd never admit it aloud, she worried about Snow's safety. It was clear by the way Cora literally tried to squeeze the breath out of Snow that they both shared an abrasive past and a past like that was not easily forgotten or forgiven. She shuddered at the thought of the showdown they may have if they were to cross paths again.

Detecting her daughter's uneasiness with the lack of knowledge about her adversary's whereabouts, Snow's eyes softened as she cupped the blonde's elbow to pull her out of her thoughts. "Don't worry," she soothed, "she's not going to hurt us. I'll never let her hurt you."

Her words blazed with such sincerity that Emma couldn't question her promise. Yet, there was no way she was going to let her fight her battles alone. She may be her daughter but no one who threatened her family was going to get off without a fight from her.

"She won't hurt any of us, not if I have anything to do with it."

"No, no, Emma!" she panicked, reading the blonde's mind. "You are _not _to go near Cora, do you understand me?"

"Look there's no way I'm just gonna stand on the sidelines and watch while my mother and step-great-grandmother have a fight to the death!"

"_Emma Swan_," Snow boomed firmly, taking the woman by the arms and holding her securely in her grip, "I will not – under any circumstances – allow you put yourself in danger so whatever plan you think you will enact, it better not come to fruition. I've lost you once before and I'm never ever losing you again; especially not at the hands of Cora!" She held onto the woman tighter, afraid to let go as a stray tear travelled down her cheek. The thought of Emma putting herself on the line against someone so resourceful made her heart thump wildly against her ribs and kicked her maternal instincts into overdrive. For a time, it was Emma who looked after her; but now she was her mother, and she was the one doing the protecting and so help her, God she'd do it with everything inside of her no matter the consequences.

Emma, realising that Mary Margaret wasn't bluffing, could muster no words except the always reliable "Okay," which came out much meeker and childlike than she had intended.

"I won't let anything happen to you," Snow repeated again, her voice a breath above a whisper before breaking her hold and striding over to Mulan and Aurora who had taken a seat under a tree. For a brief time, Emma had actually forgotten about them.

"We decided to take rest," Aurora proclaimed as they approached, avoiding eye-contact with Mulan.

"Actually, I believe it was you who decided we stop," the warrior amended, a snarl evident in her tone and by the way she scowled, Emma figured she was none too pleased with this arrangement.

"Well I'm sorry but I was asleep for years and my energy count is not quite the same as before."

"No, Aurora is right," Snow interjected before Mulan could swoop in with some snarky comment that would do them no good and undoubtedly hurt her friend's feelings…if they were friends that is. It was hard to tell sometimes. "A short rest would do us a world of good; the heat is too much to bear at the moment and the shade provided by these trees will protect us from the sun's rays."

Emma snickered. "Yeah I mean, haven't you guys ever heard of sunscreen?"

"Emma," Snow warned and Emma clamped her lips shut, angry for speaking before thinking. "Too much sun will dehydrate us. You both rest and Emma and I will fetch us some water."

No one seemed to argue with that.

* * *

Winding the maze that was the Enchanted Forest made Emma's head hurt. She trusted her mother's sense of direction and was somewhat awed by the brunette's ability to frolic spryly through the woods, but each turn and fallen tree looked the same to her and her frustration started to show. "Are you sure there's a lake around here?"

Emma heard Snow's deep sigh. "I'm pretty sure it's just up here." She pointed to what appeared to be some kind of break from the trees up ahead and Emma felt her chagrin dissolve.

It occurred to her as she ambled alongside of Mary Margaret that she had failed to ask a rather important question. Not the most eloquent speaker, she decided not to beat around the bush. "What's your deal with Cora anyway? I mean, why was she trying to kill you?"

Her remark caught Mary Margaret unawares however it did little to deter her from her concentration. She stared off into the distance, her expression neutral, like her mind had travelled to some distant place; back to another time. "Why do people do anything? We all have motives and desires; some just choose a different path with which to obtain them."

Emma waited for the woman to continue, not really following her cryptic opening. She shoved her hands in the back pockets of her jeans and took a deep breath in anticipation for the story to come.

"I met Cora when I was a young girl; when Regina was to marry my father. She was so sweet and kind and assured me that having Regina as a mother would be the best thing for me, considering I had grown up without a mother, and honestly, I was so happy to have a mother figure in my life. But Regina was in love with someone else – Daniel." She exhaled sharply and shook her head as if remembering something horrid. "She planned to run away with him, to start a new life with her true love and made me promise not to tell Cora of her arrangement for she had no time for talk of 'true love'. All she cared about was making sure that Regina had power; everything else was secondary – including her own daughter's heart." Again, she paused to look at Emma, her eyes clouded. "But I did not keep my promise and instead of trying to help her, I put her in the line of fire. I never intended to hurt Regina – I wanted her as my mother – but she never forgave me for breaking my word."

"So, what, Cora sent Daniel away?"

Mary Margaret gulped, and pushed back hair behind her ear. "She killed him. Right there in front of her."

"Oh my God. I never thought I'd say this, but…poor Regina."

"I know. That woman is the most vindictive, manipulative, evil person I have ever encountered. There has been so many times when I wished I could go back and make it all better. Keep my word."

"No, it wasn't your fault. You didn't murder him; you were just a kid. You weren't to know what was to happen." Emma took hold of her arm and forced her to look her in the eye. She didn't want her to feel burdened by something out of her control and yet she understood that that was something that haunted her regularly. Snow nodded and flashed her a genuine smile as the lake came into view.

* * *

The lake was as vast as Snow remembered and the water just as fresh. Both she and Emma filled their flasks up to the brim ensuring that they retrieved enough for Mulan and Aurora and started their journey back, with Snow taking sips, realising how thirsty she was.

The walk back was shorter now that they had paved the way earlier and Snow found herself basking in the comfortable atmosphere around her daughter. It was moments like these that Snow wished she could freeze and keep forever.

Emma stalked further ahead, insisting she could hear the dry cries for water from their new friends and Snow smiled as she watched the blonde manoeuvre her way to their resting place.

But in an instant, she felt her world tilt and her eyes grow dim. She pushed her forehead with the heel of her hand, trying to keep herself steady, but it did little to ease her confusion. She fell to the ground and watched as the light – and Emma – slipped out of focus and all that remained was darkness.

**So what did you think? Oh, I refer to Snow as MM whenever it's from Emma's point of view just because I feel like that's what she'll be calling her for a little longer. I know there weren't exactly a lot of sweet mother/daughter moments but I wanted to try and build a solid foundation for their new relationship. Anyway I hope you enjoyed and please don't forget to review and let me know what you thought :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey all, thanks for all the reviews and follows! Hope you enjoy what you read :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

Emma weaved her way out to Aurora and Mulan who seemed to have put aside their differences for now. Actually, Mulan looked to be enjoying the little relaxation time; her head leaned back against a tree and her eyes closed, she looked the most tranquil Emma had ever seen her. "Here," she said, tossing the flask full of water to the woman, startling her. "You two share that one."

"Where's Snow?" Aurora inquired, eyeing the flask as if it were the most precious thing she had ever laid her eyes on.

"Oh, she's just behind me," Emma replied, turning around to inspect the vicinity for the brunette only to find no sign of her. "I think."

Mulan gave her a quizzical look as she passed the water to the princess. "Did she stay behind for something?"

"No…" Emma ran a hand through her blonde locks as she peered into the woods. "Maybe I'll just go and see if she's okay."

With an assertive tug of her burgundy jacket she cautiously walked the way she came, not quite sure why she was so worried all of a sudden. She just couldn't shake the feeling that something had happened. She was just behind her; there was no way she would take so long to catch-up.

There was no way she could just disappear.

Reaching the spot where she broke away from Mary Margaret, Emma started to panic. There was no sign of her anywhere. Her breathing became erratic as she frantically scanned the area, calling out her mother's name and praying that this was all a big misunderstanding.

As her eyes pooled with tears, her vision blurred, the noise of a twig snapping alerted her. "Mary Margaret?" she breathed.

"Yes, I'm here," a voice answered from the bushes before the woman's figure appeared.

Emma couldn't describe the relief she felt in that moment. It was overwhelming; so overwhelming that she thought she would fall to her knees. She held back any tears she had, embarrassed from what clearly seemed to be an overreaction. "Where…where did you go? I thought you were just behind me?"

Mary Margaret fixed her hair and clothes in one clean sweep. "I was…I just thought I saw something. I didn't mean to worry you." Emma flinched slightly as she realised that she looked anxious and she really didn't want her mother to make a big deal over what happened.

"We should get back to the others while they're still on speaking terms," she commented, changing the subject. But this time as they made their way back, Emma made sure that they were together all the way. She noticed, however, that Mary Margaret looked almost distracted as they arrived back. Maybe she did see something.

"We'll need to make camp here," Mulan attested once they showed up.

"Why?" Emma wasn't thrilled about the idea of staying another night out in the open, sleeping out under the stars in the freezing night air. Or about being ogre bait. Did nobody ever consider this?

"Aurora is not feeling well and I don't think she's fit to travel for the rest of the day. I think it best if we stay here for now and arise first thing in the morning."

"But it's not even sundown yet," the blonde protested.

"She is ill," Mulan asserted vehemently, visibly frustrated with Emma's defiance.

"Fine, whatever, but you're keeping watch first."

"No, no. I'll keep watch first," Mary Margaret interrupted as if finally listening to the exchange. She flashed Emma a look that she didn't really understand but she figured her mother knew best. After all, ever since they fell into fairytale land, that's the one lesson Emma had to learn – and fast, so there was no point in questioning her.

So she shrugged and ambled over to Aurora who was lying on the ground, her hand rubbing her stomach. The girl looked like she didn't want anyone to bother her so instead of passing some kind of witty remark, Emma just sat next to her quietly, gathering her own thoughts.

She was ashamed to admit it but that moment when she was looking for her mother, a thought crossed her mind. Maybe it was the way she was wired or maybe it was because it was one of her worst fears, but for a passing space of time, Emma actually thought Mary Margaret had left her. Deep down she knew that was impossible, especially following all they had been through here and the progress made between them. Her mother did love her, all the signs pointed to that fact but she couldn't suppress the doubt that swarmed her mind. All her life she had been gifted with the ability to doubt in any situation and now that doubt was rearing its ugly head. It also didn't help that the brunette had been acting a little strange since they got back. Even now as Emma watched her interact with Mulan, she noticed that the way the woman held herself was…different, somehow, but she couldn't put her finger on it.

* * *

The rest of the day passed by in a flurry of images and sounds as the three of them tended to Aurora and tried to keep her as comfortable as possible, hoping that whatever had taken hold of her would dissipate over time and she'd be right as rain by the morning. And, from what Emma could see, she was suffering from dehydration and possibly from not exerting energy for a ridiculous period of time which meant that with some sleep and fluids she'd be back on her feet in no time.

Luckily for them, Aurora was keen on sleeping and by the time the sun had set she was lost in slumber. The chill of the night had emerged and lingered around them like a predator waiting to attack. Every breath of air slinked down their throats, spreading to each part of their bodies, and any attempt at retaining body heat was pointless. The only thing to do was to wrap up with anything that looked like it might contain warmth. It was the only night when Emma wished she had what Mulan was wearing; a suit of armour would have done her the world of good. Plus, she wondered how armour would look on her; if her father was a prince and her mother was handy with a bow and arrow, then surely she was tailor-made to wear something like that.

Maybe if she was sneaky enough, Mulan would never notice…

"Are you going asleep?" Emma raised her head to look at Mary Margaret, who's frame, in the dense darkness of the night, was somewhat menacing.

"I was going to try, but it's so cold I'm afraid I'll turn into a block of ice," she deadpanned.

"You'll be fine. Once you're asleep you'll forget all about the temperature. Trust me."

"I hope so. What about you?"

"I'm keeping guard," the brunette said firmly.

"I could stay up with you for a little while…if you'd like?" Emma could hardly believe the words coming out of her mouth. It was like that little episode earlier had sparked something within her and the idea of not being around her mother made her apprehensive. She felt silly; she felt like a child, but she couldn't help how she felt. It was like she was becoming a new version of herself; almost like a new person who dealt with _emotions _and _feelings_. Sort of like an upgrade. Emma 2.0.

"No, no it's okay," Mary Margaret responded. Quite quickly if Emma was reading into it…which she wasn't. "You should sleep; tomorrow will be a long day, especially if our friend is still unwell so we must keep our energy up," she finished rather formally.

Her words stung Emma, more so than she ever thought and yet she knew they weren't meant to. It almost felt like a rejection. "Oh. Yeah, you're right." She crossed her arms across her chest, pulled her knees in close and gently positioned her chin on top.

Mary Margaret looked at her with soft eyes as she put a cold hand on her head. "Goodnight, dear."

"Goodnight."

As Mary Margaret walked away towards a tree stump for the night, Emma felt that uneasiness again. However, this was a different type of uneasy. Perhaps she was misinterpreting things or her mind was playing tricks on her, but Mary Margaret wasn't the same. She, too, was a new version of herself – one Emma had never witnessed before. Whatever had happened earlier had caused a shift to occur.

But, she probably just needed the night to recover – just like Aurora.

Emma was just reading a little too much into the situation. Feeling her mind starting to hurt due to the countless things thrashing around in there, she closed her eyes and begged God, the universe, whoever would listen, that the artic conditions she was subject to would not take root and that she'd be able to drift away.

* * *

There was shuffle somewhere in the distance. Or it could have been closer; Snow wasn't sure. All she knew was the dull throb between her eyes. With all her might she managed to prize her eyes open to inspect her surroundings. One thing was for sure: she wasn't in the forest anymore. Instead, she was in a place far more sinister. Attempting to compose herself over the initial shock of gazing around the dungeon, Snow drew in a deep breath. She was really here…in Regina's Palace. Chained to the wall, her heart quickened. She knew how she got here and who was responsible for her disappearing act, but she didn't know why. Being back at the palace brought back nothing but the painful, anguish inducing moments of her life of which she longed to forget and yet, here she was literally trapped in the place that caused her so much hurt.

She struggled against the chains, emptily hoping that somehow, by sheer will and determination, she'd be able to free herself but she knew better. Evil doesn't do anything half-heartedly – it's all or nothing. There was no escape from this snare.

Though knowing it a bad idea, Snow let her thoughts drift to Emma and wondered what she was doing. Did she know she was gone or that something had happened to her? Would she…would she think she had abandoned her…? No, she couldn't let herself think like that. Emma knew how much she was loved; she had to know that Snow would never ever leave her alone again…right? And before she even was aware of it herself, she released a sob that jolted through her entire body and shook her very core. The thought of Emma thinking that Snow would_ ever _get up and leave her was unbearable and soon enough her cheeks ached from the cries.

"Crying doesn't suit you dear, Snow," a voice said from the darkness. Snow squinted, steeling her muscles as the figure emerged from the shadows stepping into the harsh light. The sly, arrogant smirk on her face sent a shiver down her spine, but she didn't show it. She couldn't show any more weakness; she had to be brave.

"What do you want from me? Why am I here?"

"Oh, Snow," Cora shushed, placing a finger on her lips. "You need to relax. Good things come to those who wait."

Snow's blood boiled, her anger seething. "What good can possibly come from this?" She clanked her chains in emphasis, her eyes on fire.

Much to her dismay, Cora laughed at her display. "You misunderstood; I never said good things would come to _you._"

The words cut through Snow, the evil underlay slicing at her heart. This, certainly, was not good. "Whatever you have planned, whatever it is you think you're accomplishing with this little abduction of yours, it's not going to work. They're going to realise that I'm gone and when they do, they're going to hunt for you and they won't stop until they find you. _That _you can count on."

Cora stalked over to Snow, her gaze fixated on Snow's. "They don't even know you're gone, darling."

"Wha-"

"You have much faith in that daughter of yours. Emma, isn't it? Pretty name. She appears to be a very obstinate young woman, thus your theory stands firm. But you underestimate me." She backed away, clicked her fingers and, in a haze of purple, Cora vanished, only to be replaced by…Snow White.

Snow's face paled and dropped, her stomach churning. She was face to face with herself and there was nothing distinguishable between them. Cora was an exact replica. She cast her mind back to when she was so easily fooled by Cora as Lancelot and how she didn't suspect anything until much later. She gulped, her fears materialising into a fresh batch of tears.

No, Emma would know the difference. She just would. She had to. Cora would slip up like she did back in the nursery and Emma would be the first have her head.

"What are you trying to accomplish with this? What's the desired result?" She tried so hard to keep her voice steady but faltered last minute. The only thing worse than being afraid, was showing fear to your enemy.

With another swish of purple, Cora reappeared, her face contemplative. "You know, in a funny way I always thought I owed you."

"Owed me?"

"For telling me about Regina's plans to be with that…stable boy. For if it were not for you, I may have never have stopped her from making the biggest mistake of her life. You allowed me to put her back on the right path, the path of power, the path I had always intended for her."

"You killed him!" Snow yelled, horrified by her association to the heinous crime committed by Cora. "All I wanted was for you to have a relationship with your daughter but you ruined any chance you had of that!"

"That may be true, yet now I have a way to fix what has been broken." She raised a jar of sparkling dust in front of Snow, moving it side to side. "I have found a way to see my daughter. The only thing in my way is you and your band of followers. I cannot let any of you reveal my identity to the people back at the haven so I must do what it takes to keep on my course back to my daughter. You are all obstacles which I simply must overcome."

"Your daughter doesn't want to see you because you were a terrible mother!" she spat, keeping her eyes fixed on the sparkle.

"Well, at least I didn't send my daughter away," Cora replied calmly.

"I _had _to send Emma away to protect her becauseof how cruel _you_ were to Regina! You are the root of Regina's evil!"

"Spin it any way you want, dear, but none of that was my doing."

Tired from being trapped and tired of the fear that gripped her, Snow dropped her head, silently pleading to Emma to save her. To never lose hope. "What exactly are you going to do to me?"

The eyes glinted mischievously. "I'm going to kill them first and save you until last."

And just like a bolt of lightning, she was gone again.

Back to the others.

Back to Emma.

Cora was going to kill them and she was going to do it as Snow White.

Snow could have easily fallen to pieces right there and then, but if there was one thing that Snow was good at, it was never giving up. She would not let Cora destroy her happiness. She would not let her succeed. And thus, a new determination was born. No matter what, Snow was going to find her way back to her daughter. After all, that's what Charming's do; they find one another even in the bleakest of circumstances and she would not stop until she was embracing Emma again.

Cora better watch out because Snow White had a score to settle.

**So what did you all think? Please be honest! I do have an idea of where I want to take the story but if any of you have any suggestions please do tell me and I'll see what I can do! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and please, please review – it'd make my day :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey all! I was completely blown away by the response to the last chapter and I want to thank everyone who reviewed, followed and favourited! I hope you like what you read! :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

It was a restless night. As she tossed and turned trying to keep herself warm, and eventually curling up into a ball to shield her body from the icy conditions, Emma's dreams were filled with the events of the past few days. Images of Henry dying on a hospital bed, her reunion with her parents, slaying a dragon, Mary Margaret defeating an ogre, and Cora wielding her magic for selfish purposes flashed through her mind, mingling together into one massive jigsaw puzzle that needed to be put together in some kind of coherent fashion. She squeezed her eyes tighter hoping that by doing so, the images would cease and she'd just be able to free her mind and relax.

Pulling herself out of her dreams and slipping into the not-asleep-but-not-awake limbo, she crossed her arms, and laid her hands on her shoulders next to her neck. It seemed unnatural but was so comfortable. Letting the chill in and out of her lungs, she opened her eyes momentarily – long enough to steal a peek at the tree stump on which Mary Margaret was using to keep watch.

Or supposedly using to keep watch.

Her vision was hazy and her world was tilting with each passing second but she stayed awake just to see the empty stump. But before she deliberated a movement, her eyelids drooped and she was dragged under, her last thoughts a distant memory.

* * *

Feeling the morning heat pressing on her face, Emma awoke with a start. Her dreams had been wild and dark with each vision moulding into another, leaving Emma starving for reprieve. She bolted upright, scanning her surroundings. Yes, she was still in Fairytale Land; still in the unfamiliar, dangerous, mind-bending place with seemingly no way of getting back home to Storybrooke. Each time she woke to see she was still stuck, her heart tugged as she thought of Henry. Being apart from him was the most difficult thing she had ever endured, and her pain only increased as time went on. Knowing that he was back home with Regina still in the picture, lurking and waiting to snatch him away from her did nothing to ease her mind though she knew David – no, her _father _– would protect him and that gave her some peace of mind.

Having Mary Margaret around was a definite help, and despite how awkward treating her as her mother was, Emma was happy with the direction their relationship was going. At first she was hurt by the thought that Mary Margaret only went through the portal because she thought Emma was helpless and incapable of looking after herself in a strange land, but knowing now that she came through just so that she wouldn't have to be separated from her again shaped a smile on her face. In fact, she couldn't picture being without her now. And the more she thought of it, she realised that she didn't want to be without her mother again.

Placing the palm of her hand on the ground to give her leverage, she rose to her feet, wiping off any dirt on the arms of her jacket and walked over to meet Mulan and Mary Margaret who were checking up on Aurora.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" she inquired, hunkering down to the princess' level.

"I have felt better," she replied and Emma couldn't help but laugh.

Her mother gave her a curious look and Mulan narrowed her cynical eyes. "What is so funny?" she asked, utterly bewildered by her outburst.

"Nothing; I just didn't expect her to come out with that. It sounded like something I would say," the blonde explained, visibly entertained by the influence she was having on the fairytale characters.

"I'm glad my plight amuses you," she uttered with a slight smile before closing her eyes as she inhaled deeply. "I'm afraid the drastic changes in temperature did little to help."

"Do you think you'll be able to travel today?" From her tone, Emma sensed that Mulan was eager to continue their journey just a little farther. She didn't exactly fit the profile of a patient girl what with all that armour and constant pensive expression.

Aurora made every effort to pull herself up into a seating position. Raising her head and letting the sun's rays rest on her face, she gave a nod. "I will try." That was the best they could hope for.

"I don't know, I don't feel right about making her go while she's not in the best health," Mary Margaret finally added, crinkling her forehead in thought.

The blonde extended a hand to Aurora and helped her to her feet, while using her other hand to keep her steady. "I thought you wanted to get back as soon as possible and warn everybody about Cora and magic and all that stuff? Besides, you know there's not much we can do out here to treat her; she'll recover quicker back at the haven."

"Yes, Snow, I'll be fine and when I'm not, I'll let you know."

"You see? Problem solved." Emma shot her mother a wide smile which Mary Margaret returned with less enthusiasm. What was going on with her lately?

Mulan was quick to her friend's side, offering her shoulder as an aid. "We must start," she announced, walking ahead with Aurora, being careful in making sure she kept an even pace. Though Aurora insisted she was okay for at least a little while, her ghost-like complexion begged to differ and Emma wasn't so sure how far she could go without taking a break.

As they followed behind them – in silence – Emma, every now and then, glanced over at the brunette and desperately wanted to know what she was thinking. She looked distant; like she was there, but…not. She was a million miles away, her brain calculating some kind of problem. Kicking a loose stone with brute force, she decided to spark a conversation, an anxiety beginning to rise within her even though she didn't know why. She watched the stone tumble along the ground, rhythmically letting air traverse in and out of her lungs. She didn't know what it was but there was just something about the idea of talking to her mother that caused her to stop and think before speaking; she worried about what she said and that was something completely alien to her. It was _so _unlike her.

"What are you thinking about? You've been really quiet."

The question seemed to catch the woman unawares and she brought her gaze to meet that of the blonde's. "Oh, you know, I was just worrying about Henry and…"

"David," Emma finished. "It must be hard to be separated from him again after literally just reuniting with him."

"Yes. It's been very difficult for me. As I assume it is for you, too." Mary Margaret interlocked her fingers, staring into the distance. Emma quirked an eyebrow at the woman's way of speaking; she sure didn't sound like herself and usually if she was worried or nervous over something or someone, she would toy with that ring she wore on her right hand, but she hadn't played with it at all.

"Yeah, it definitely hasn't been the easiest few days; the more I think about getting home, the more hopeless I feel. I mean, I thought that as soon as we found the wardrobe it would only be a matter of time before we'd get it work, but Cora ruined any chance we had of that. Now we're back to square one; what if we never get home, Mary Margaret?" That was the last thing she wanted to let her thoughts slip to, but the more time they spent hanging around the forest and dodging the original Evil Queen, the further they were from acquiring a solution and being reunited with their loved ones. All she desired to do was pull in her son for a long hug, smelling his hair and basking in the knowledge that he was alive and safe. And then there was the matter of seeing her father again and telling him that she understood why they sent her away.

Mary Margaret's unusual tone yanked her out of her daze. "Don't worry, Emma. I have a feeling that making it to Storybrooke is in the not-so-distant future." Instead of her words washing over her like a calm wave, they unsettled her and still, she couldn't figure out why. There was a whisper of a smirk on the brunette's face and a glazed film covered her natural warm green eyes, making them appear sinister rather than sincere.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Emma asked, stopping the woman's stride as she took hold of her arm and to her astonishment, Mary Margaret instantly broke away from her grip and Emma threw up her hands in apology. "Woah, sorry I didn't mean to…" What? What didn't she mean to do? All she did was put a hand on her elbow and normally that kind of contact would be embraced by Mary Margaret. No there was absolutely something going on here.

"Emma, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you. I'm simply overwhelmed by everything and with the possibility of running into Cora, I'm scared. I don't want her to hurt us – you." She, tentatively, grabbed a hold of the blonde's shoulders, forcing her to look at her. "Nothing is more important to me than you, Emma. Please believe me on that."

Her plea didn't require an answer but Emma felt obliged to at least murmur some form of confirmation. "I do."

"Good. Everything is going to be okay, dear." Dear? What the hell? Mary Margaret _never _called her that.

She gave a weak smile before assembling the troops and marching forward with purpose again.

_Everything is going to be okay. _

There was nothing else Emma wanted to believe more in that moment, but how could she when that promise was so empty, so meaningless? So devoid of any emotion? Emma may not know many things about the world she was in, but if there was one thing she prized herself in knowing was Mary Margaret, and now she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that that woman there was not Mary Margaret, or Snow; not her best friend, nor her mother. That person was someone else entirely.

That person was Cora.

* * *

Perspiration trickled down her forehead, stinging her eyes and matting her hair, but that was the last thing on her mind. Her throat ached from the sobs that resounded around her prison, her cheeks tingling with tears. With every ounce of energy she could muster, Snow throttled her arms forward putting as much strain as humanly possible on the chains she was bound by. But again, like all the other times previous, nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.

The easy option, the alternative route would be to give up and live in the hope that Cora was outsmarted and that Emma and the others were on the way to save her now, yet Snow had to remind herself to be realistic. She willed her core to keep trying because giving up meant she was losing faith and that was one thing she refused to let dissipate away. She _was _going to get out of this. She _was _going to see her daughter again, and she _was _going to finally tell her that she loved her. _She was going to do it. _

With another bout of exertion, she threw back a foot against the wall and used it to push her whole body forward, desperately putting everything she had into the act. With a painful groan she shoved so aggressively until her foot slipped causing her frame to bounce and fall backward, reverberating off the stone wall and shooting nothing but searing pain up her back and into her shoulders. In agony – and frustration – she kicked the wall with the heel of her foot, completely angered by her situation.

A part of her feared that her escape attempts were futile; that Cora had already enacted her plan and that…that…she couldn't say it. Yet, who was to say that that wasn't the case? Cora hadn't shown up in a while which concerned Snow. Still, she clutched onto the hope that Emma would recognise that a swap had been made and plan a takedown, or that Cora was biding her time, waiting for the right time to strike.

No, Emma wasn't dead. Snow could feel it. It was like they were cosmically linked and she could tell when Emma was hurting, or when she was angry. Snow just knew. And as she tried ever so hard again to jostle the chain, her heart lifted as one tiny piece of metal clinked collided with the dusty ground.

* * *

Cora was Mary Margaret.

As much as Emma knew that statement to be true, it still didn't diminish the fact that it was totally crazy. Shape-shifting was not something she was well acquainted with; the closest she had been to someone pretending to be someone they weren't was whenever she went on a date - which wasn't very often.

She had to remain calm; she couldn't show any sign of weakness or do anything to rouse suspicion. She had to go with the flow but it was kinda hard to do because every time she looked at the woman, her blood bubbled and she frantically racked her brain for ideas of where her mother could be. This woman, who had given birth to the Evil Queen, had abducted Mary Margaret and done God knows what to her. Emma compelled herself to take deep breaths and chant assurances in her head that she was alive because any thoughts contrary to that would…destroy her. Just thinking about it made her heart freeze and her limbs cease functioning. As the others charged forward, Emma had to stop and inhale deeply to get her heart beating again, her mind filled with terrible scenarios that Mary Margaret could be facing at that moment, each one a million times worse than the last.

Finally, after all the years of confusion and anguish, Emma had been reunited with the one person she had always wanted in her life and come hell or high water, she was going to do anything to find her again. No one, not even Cora, was going to get in her way.

As they were approaching another lake, Emma could see that Aurora wasn't holding up too well. They had been walking for hours and though the princess had put on a brave face for the majority of the trek, the exertion was obviously taking its toll. It was taking two of Mulan's arms to keep her steady now and she, too, was looking exhausted.

"Can we please stop?" Emma heard Aurora plead.

"The haven is just a bit farther," Mulan said sympathetically.

"Please, Mulan. If it is only a short distance, then we may stop for a brief moment."

Eager to explain to both Aurora and Mulan about what had taken place, Emma spoke, quickening her pace to take one of Aurora's arms and throw it around her neck. "She's right; she needs to be rehydrated. We'll continue soon, you have my word."

Nevertheless, Mulan was stubborn. "Snow, what do you think we should do?"

"I think Emma is right; she can barely stand. I'll go fetch her some fresh water." And without any sort of delay, Cora was out of sight.

Emma had to take hold of the opportunity presented in front of her. Lowering the princess onto a log, she signalled for both women to lean in close and listen.

"What is it?" Aurora questioned, intrigued by Emma's discomfort and no doubt reading the anxiety etched into her facial features.

"That woman is not my mother."

"What are you talking about? You told us she was," Mulan said, baffled by Emma's statement.

"No, Mary Margaret or Snow, whatever, _is _my mother, but that woman who is getting us water is not." She tried to convey clearly what was happening but even to herself she knew she sounded crazy.

"I'm not sure I follow." Aurora narrowed her eyes in concentration, visibly trying to sort out what Emma was saying.

"I'm saying that she is not who we think she is; she is someone else."

"Do you mean that she's-"

"Yes," Emma cut off, "she's Cora."

**So what did you all think? I found this chapter really difficult to write mainly because I didn't know how I was going to get Emma to realize that it wasn't Mary Margaret but I hope that I've done it correctly! Please tell me if I haven't! Anyway, I really hope you like what you read and please, please review and tell me what you thought :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey! Again, a huge thank you to everyone for reviewing and following! Hope you like what you read! :)**

**I do not own OUAT unfortunately. **

"She's…Cora?" Aurora choked out, her illness forgotten as she wrapped her mind around a far more frightening threat looming. She looked frightened; so much so that Emma began to wonder if she'd ever be able to wipe that mask of panic off her face. No need to say anything else, she was already on board with whatever scheme Emma wanted to enact.

But, and as Emma had expected, Mulan was not as easily convinced. She was a natural sceptic, which Emma admired because she, too, was hotwired that way. If only she didn't choose that particular moment to show it. She stood upright so as to look down upon the blonde, her towering figure quite threatening against the harsh light of the sun. "And what proof do you have of this?"

"I just know. Trust me on this; I'm not wrong." What Emma didn't factor in was how difficult it would be for someone else to automatically accept her word at face-value. She knew that that Mary Margaret was not _her_ Mary Margaret, the one she knew so well. She was an imposter. And who would be capable of playing such an elaborate switch? Cora. To Emma, it made perfect sense.

Mulan, however, was defiant and refused to entertain her theory without evidence. "You cannot simply assume things about other people without gathering all of the facts first."

"You're one to talk," she scoffed, getting to her feet so that their stares met. There goes her mouth again; seriously, she needed to learn how to take a deep breath before lunging in for the kill. Getting people on her side was not one of her strong suits. She was never really a good 'people person.'

"I'm not sure I follow what you are suggesting."

"What I mean is that you didn't get all the facts about us before you locked us up like prisoners." Worried that she was wasting precious time bickering with the headstrong warrior, Emma laid aside her simmering chagrin and lowered her voice to a whisper again. "Look, I don't know much about this place, but I do know my mother and that woman is not her. Okay? Now, she's going to be back soon and we have to figure out a plan; figure out what to do next."

"Should we confront her?" Funnily enough, Emma didn't see Aurora as the confrontation type, but the steely look in her generally serene eyes seemed to prove that notion incorrect.

"No," Mulan ordered, "we must remain calm, act normal. We must not rouse her suspicion."

"Right, because I'm pretty sure we're all aware that any encounter with Cora isn't going to end up with us holding hands around a campfire." The raised eyebrows and bewildered expressions generated a bitter chuckle from Emma. "I mean, if Cora is here with us that means one thing: she wants us out of the way."

"She's going to kill us?" There was the Aurora Emma had come to know. The girl's breaths became ragged and she gripped onto the log, letting what she hearing sink in. "Then we must put an end to her plans." It wasn't a proposition; it was an absolute. Clearly the princess had had enough of terrible occurrences befalling her and was willing to take action to put an end to it all.

"Woah, easy there," Emma warned. "Before we do anything we have to find out where Mary Margaret is and we can't do that if we're…dead." She paused temporarily to watch the slight breeze ruffle through the grass, the reality of their crisis rising up within her. She closed her eyes, quenching her worries for the time being. "Cora has magic and from what I've seen and heard, magic is unpredictable and always comes with a price and right now we're not in any position to pay any kind of price. We need to be thoughtful; careful."

Maybe it was the situation she was faced with or maybe it was her mother's influence rubbing off on her, but Emma felt far more assured in herself than she had in as long as she could remember. Sure she put up a brave front and demanded to be in control of her own life on countless occasions but never had she felt a sense of purpose before like she did now. Usually she was alone with only herself to take care of, but now she had a family and with that developed a devotion to protect them at any cost.

"You're right," Mulan agreed, clutching her sword. "We need to be vigilant; we must unite against the enemy and save Snow White."

"So you'll help me?"

Aurora and Mulan exchanged a serious glance, reaching an agreement. "Of course," Aurora said, struggling to her feet. "Family is the most important thing a person has." She smiled warmly.

But before Emma could even utter a 'thank you', her whole body stiffened when she caught sight of faux-Mary Margaret ambling toward them, wood and flask in hands. There was an air of arrogance about her and Emma's reasons for hating her continued to grow. "Remember; be natural," she muttered hastily.

"The water is so refreshing," Mary Margaret – no, Cora – said when she reached them and gave Aurora the flask. "You'll feel so much better once you've had a drink."

"Thanks," the princess replied – a little too warily, if you asked Emma. She further noticed her hands shaking as she brought the cup to her mouth, her face relaxing as the liquid slinked down her throat. "That does feel better," she breathed.

"Are we taking rest?" she inquired.

"Uh…" Emma wasn't sure what the answer to that question was; Aurora was still paling as time went on and there was even a hesitancy and a watchfulness as she lowered herself back down onto the log.

"Yes, we'll stop for a half hour before we begin again," Mulan interjected assertively, taking the wood out of her arms and tossing it onto the ground. "I think we'll need more water," she directed to Cora who raised her head at the woman's tone of voice. "And some food for us to eat. Our energy levels are running low."

"Allow me," she offered, smiling sweetly. A sickly sweet smile that made Emma's bones rattle and stomach stir. She wondered what horrible fate Cora had waiting for them, but more importantly for Mary Margaret. Again her fears crept to the surface and the thought of something happening to her made her physically sick. A dizziness enveloped her and she focused all her negative energy onto a tree in the distance so as to keep the feeling at bay. She had to be strong. There was no room for slip-ups and lapses in concentration. "I'll be back soon," she insisted and beamed hollowly at the blonde before skipping on her merry to do whatever it is that villains do.

"What's the plan here?" Aurora probed, taking more sips of water.

"It's simple. We're going to follow her," Emma clarified and Mulan smirked approvingly.

"What good will that do?"

"Every villain has an evil lair, and I'm hoping that Cora will lead us to hers and to Mary Margaret."

* * *

She couldn't – no, she _wouldn't _– say it aloud, but Snow's hope was dwindling. Her best efforts to escape merely manifested into an inanimate, shiny chink on the ground and any progress made after that was practically non-existent. She could try as long as she wanted but the truth was, she hadn't eaten in nearly two days, she was given no water, and the muscles in her arms ached incessantly. There was just no energy left. She hung her head, tired of it all. In fact, the only thing keeping her awake and possibly alive was the belief that Emma was still breathing and as long as that was the truth, she would keep fighting.

Yet as the despair intensified, Snow's memories flashed in front her eyes with one particular, seemingly insignificant moment coming to the fore every time.

It was a relatively recent memory. Emma and Snow were having breakfast like they did every morning; Emma, who was not what you would call a 'morning person', was frowning as she poured her cereal into a bowl and Snow was happily munching on some toast at the table. All of a sudden she felt the urge to ask Emma a personal question and at the time wasn't sure why, but now, thinking back, she realised it was the mother in her fighting to break free.

"Emma," Snow started shyly.

"Yeah?" the blonde asked, assaulting the cereal box as she tossed back in the cupboard.

"What would you say to your parents if you ever found them?"

In her shock, Emma dropped the bowl she was carrying over to the table on the ground, smashing it into pieces and spraying milk all over the floor. "What? Where…where did that come from?"

"I don't…I don't know. I'm just curious. I didn't mean to surprise you so…much. Forget I said anything," she waved off, embarrassed by her prying.

"No, no I'm sorry; it just caught me off, that's all." She pulled out the chair and sat down, ignoring the mess she made; her gaze firmly fixed the door in case she needed a quick exit. Snow waited patiently. "Wow. Well, honestly, I don't know what I would say. I mean, I've imagined hundreds of scenarios in my head and I've devised thousands of speeches but I guess I'll never really know until I'm there in that moment, and I feel whatever I feel. Mostly, I think I'd be…angry. Of course there would be this relief of finally knowing and getting some answers but they did give me away and that's not something I think I could overlook."

Snow remembered being awed at how open Emma was being; it was like she was finally letting her in, finally embracing their friendship – finally showing that she trusted her. She also recalled how angry she was at Emma's parents for giving her up in the first place, despite knowing her frustration was misplaced and now, realizing just how blind she was. Her daughter sat right in front of her and spoke about how hurt she was at being abandoned and yet, there was nothing Snow could do about it. So instead of saying something redundant and have the blonde shrug it off as no big deal, Snow did the only thing she thought fit: she reached across the table and took Emma's hand, which invited a warm smile off the woman.

Snow could tell – and feel – that Emma still harboured feelings of resentment and bitterness now even though she had found her parents and even after what she said in the nursery, and Snow figured that it would be a very long time before those impressions would dissolve.

And that was why she needed to be with her. This was the most crucial time in their mother-daughter relationship and Emma was out there in the forest with someone who couldn't be further from Snow White even if she tried her hardest; someone who was probably going out of their way to make Emma feel unloved or undeserving of her time. And nothing riled Snow more.

Her heart thumped violently in her chest, blood pumped in her ears and all she could picture was Cora ripping out her daughter's heart. Impulsively, she threw everything she had into another attempt at cracking her shackles, her rage rippling through every sinew, ligament, tendon, and muscle. And for that moment it was as if nothing else existed except for Snow, those chains and that one beam of light emitting from the ceiling in amidst the enshrouding darkness. Love was going to conquer, good was going to win.

And as her cry of sweat and strength bounced off the offending walls, a fracture appeared on the already damaged shackle and Snow managed to summon up enough power to pump her hand one more time to break through the stronghold. She gasped loudly in realization and marvelled at her hand as if was some foreign part that belonged to someone else entirely. Raising it up and down in front of her eyes, she scrutinised the bruises that marred her wrist and flinched when she tried to clench her fist. It would take a little while to get the strength back into that.

Hoping, she inspected the other shackle but found it to be fully intact, showing no sign of faltering. She pushed again and again but alas, no progress was made and the euphoric feeling she had felt swept away leaving her in a much more desolate place.

Suddenly, a loud crash rang from the darkness and Snow was catapulted back against the wall, her once free hand securely locked into place with a new metal cell. She panted in her confusion and fear, shifting her gaze back and forth between her hands, tears rolling down her cheeks. She struggled and struggled but she had nothing left.

"You weren't thinking of escaping, were you?" Cora's voice travelled through the gloom, snapping Snow's attention back to reality. She peered into the blackness awaiting her adversary.

* * *

Emma, Mulan and Aurora jogged through the forest, following what little of a trail was left of Cora. She had only left less than a minute before they took off behind her, relying on Mulan's stealth and observation and attempting to use Emma's wrath to their advantage. They weaved their way through, watching the footprints ahead of them as they melted into the soft earth, being as silent as possible. Despite Aurora's lack of enthusiasm for anything to do with the outdoors and trekking and her ailment, she was alive in the bush and just as involved as the other two. Emma couldn't help but be somewhat proud of her and amazed to see that the girl had grown such a strong attachment to them; so much so that she was ready to fight for them. She must remind herself to show her appreciation later.

They continued on until Mulan halted abruptly, flinging her arm out in front of Emma. She put a finger to her lips signalling them to keep quiet, and drew her sword, swiping at loose branches. With a few baby steps forward, the three of them uncertainly crept, their shoulders tensed in anticipation. The footprints had disappeared and there was no sign of any other movement in the area. The trail had gone cold.

"I don't understand; how can the trail just end?" Aurora asked. "People don't just vanish."

"Yeah, most people can't, but Cora can. She used magic and now we have no idea where she is or where Mary Margaret is," Emma said, fury surfacing.

"No, we still have the upper hand, here. She doesn't know that we suspect anything."

"That we know of," Emma interrupted.

"That we know of," Mulan repeated. "But I may have an idea of where she is."

"You do?" Aurora said, stunned by this piece of information.

Emma crossed her arms, not exactly in the mood for small talk. "Spill."

"Long ago I heard talk amongst people over what happened between Cora and Regina. I don't have many specifics but I do know that Regina wanted her overbearing mother out of her life and so, she exercised drastic measures to achieve this."

"And those drastic measures were…?"

Mulan scrunched her face, unhappy with the interference. "There were rumours of a…mirror."

"A mirror?" The blonde's eyebrows shot up. "Is that supposed to be code for something?"

The warrior rolled her eyes theatrically. "Not just any mirror; a magic mirror that has the power to transport anything and anyone to another realm. It has been told that Regina sent her mother through a mirror just like this."

"Well that certainly is drastic," Emma confirmed, "but how does that tell us where she is now?"

"There are whispers that the mirror still exists…in Regina's castle. And if Cora is sneaking around, my guess is that she is trying to find a portal back to your land."

"So, you're saying that she could be at Regina's castle with the magical mirror?"

"That's the best guess I have."

There was no time for hesitation; Emma had to make the decision to take a leap of faith and go with Mulan's suggestion or continue to follow a ghost. "Me, too. Let's go."

* * *

"Quite frankly, I'm impressed that you broke loose," Cora said mockingly, her silhouette eerie and foreboding. "But did you really think that I wasn't coming back?"

"Cora, what do you want? If you want to kill me then what's stopping you, huh? I'm glued to a wall; there's no out for me."

"Sweet, sweet Snow White, again you miss the most obvious and pivotal plot point. You need to feel the suffering I feel every day at losing my daughter and you, my precious, are going to live with the knowledge that your daughter died by your own hands – or what she thinks are your hands. I didn't come here for a social visit; I came here to tell you that I have bided my time long enough but now it is time for me to move forward." She stepped into the shaft of light. "Is there anything you would like me to tell her before I…execute my plan?"

**What did you think? Please be honest! Too much? Too little? Boring? Exciting? I hope you all enjoyed it and please, please review! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey guys! Thank you all again; seriously, you're all amazing! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

"Ah, silence. Not what I was expecting," Cora said, her gaze penetrating. "Very well, then. All I was trying to do was help, dear." Her tone was disgusting; she actually sounded like she believed that her offer was in the best interest for everyone. How the hell did she get off with feeling like that? Snow yearned to smack that smug look off her face. With every passing second and ever growing tension, Snow thought she'd burst; that all of her emotions would just build and build until there was nowhere else for them to go except out. She just needed to get out.

"If you touch one hair on her head I swear I'll kill you!"

"And how exactly would you do that? You're here, in chains, without magic. I would say the odds are against you." Those words shouldn't have stopped her, but they did. Hearing in plain English how hopeless her situation seemed to be was too much.

A million thoughts and images plagued her visions; her husband and their tumultuous yet beautiful life together, Henry, her adorable, clever grandson and all the time they spent at school together, and Emma and all those years she missed with her. So many happy memories superseded by the biggest heartache she had ever experienced – the lost years without her daughter. And now, here she was, held captive by an enemy who has sworn to take the light out of Emma's eyes with no seeming way out, no plan of action, and no idea how she was ever going to move on from this.

She'd never move on. There was nothing – absolutely nothing – that would be able to mend her torn heart and forever she would mourn the loss, suffer the searing pain and hold herself accountable for what was to happen to her daughter. There was no way forward, or at least, there was no way she could see. No route to take. Happily ever after wouldn't exist without all of the members of her family and yet again, her happiness was to be taken away by a member of Regina's family. It was a vicious cycle.

And, much to her own astonishment, Snow did the only thing she could: she pleaded. "Please, Cora. I don't understand why you are doing this. You could just let me go – let us all go; you can disappear and never have to see us again. Please, _please _don't hurt my daughter." She was exhausted, exasperated, her body numb from the pressure it had been exposed to. "She has nothing to do with this; she has done nothing to you. Whatever problems you have are with me – not my family so please, please leave Emma out of this. She doesn't deserve to die just because I am her mother."

"And I shouldn't be judged for wanting the best for my daughter but look where that got me." She lowered her voice to a hiss, her features intimidating in Snow's eyeline. "We all have things we desire and we all discover ways to get them – this is my way, Snow. No, your sweet Emma frets me not, though her cheek is something she inherited from you it would seem and my qualm is not with her. She is simply an obstacle."

"How dare you!" Snow spat ferociously. "How dare you degrade my daughter into something meaningless!"

Cora's lips curled up into a sly smirk, reeling Snow in. "I shall take my leave. Goodbye, Snow." With a twirl of her fingers, she vanished into thin air and Snow felt her chest tighten, her breath caught in her windpipe.

* * *

"Are you sure we're safe? How do we know that she's not following us?" Aurora asked, looking behind her…yet again.

"Because she doesn't know where we are. She doesn't know that we know who she is and where she's hiding," Emma iterated, stepping over a large log and narrowly avoiding falling into a tree.

"Well she certainly is aware now that we are missing and I'm sure it did not take her long to draw up the conclusions."

"Aurora is indeed right; there is no harm in being wary." Of course the one time Emma needed Mulan to be on her side, she aligned with Aurora. Typical. "We can still travel quickly while making sure we cover our tracks."

Something rumbled inside Emma; something she didn't recognise. With a firm clench of the fist she managed to calm it, whatever 'it' was. "But if we spend more of our time covering our tracks, the less time we have to get to the castle and save Mary Margaret and that is exactly what Cora wants. She wants us to slow down because she has a better chance of finding us and getting rid of us once and for all. I have no idea why she hasn't done it yet but we were dealt a hand and we gotta play the game." Her anxiety levels were hitting a new high. Her friends were right; Cora could easily be behind them preparing for the final battle with her well of magical resources and they _had _to be careful. But Emma knew Mary Margaret was at the castle – she could feel it. No, she never believed in any of that cosmic, telepathy stuff people claimed to have, yet there was no other explanation for what she was sensing. Her mother was still alive - for how long she wasn't sure – and Emma wouldn't let their journey slacken because of fear. Fear was the number one enemy.

"It's a dangerous game," Mulan commented in monotone, her hand lightly on Aurora's shoulders as the princess manoeuvred around the obstructions in their path, the ends of her dress tangling with everything.

"Yes, it is," Emma agreed, refusing to look back at them. "But we have a head-start; we're going to be fine. Nothing is going to stop me from getting there and if she does make an appearance, I'm ready."

"You think you're prepared for Cora?" Mulan scoffed incredulously.

Emma's voice cooled, her posture stiffened in assurance. "Oh, I know I am. When it comes to the people that I love, there's nothing I let get in my way. Not even magic."

* * *

As the day continued and their pace slowed, Emma found her steel weakening. Earlier she was ready for anything, her anger and despair adding fire to her hyped adrenaline, whereas now she was tiring and anything she feeling was losing its grip and she was left with just her thoughts. Thoughts mainly about Mary Margaret which, in the current situation, weren't unusual. She just wanted to see her again, make sure she was okay. She couldn't lose her, not after realising how much she was loved. No one loved her the way her family did and having that kind of love is something she would never want to live without ever again. She couldn't understand how she did it for so long, for virtually twenty-eight years.

She glanced back at the other two, her impatience creeping in again. They both looked as tired as Emma felt but there would be no rest for them today; today, resting was hazardous. "I thought you said the castle wasn't that long of a journey," Emma breathed, beginning to climb a steep hill.

"It's not," Mulan answered, annoyed at the exasperation colouring the blonde's tone. "In fact, it's very close."

"If it's so close then how come I can't see it? I thought all the castles around here were on cliff edges overlooking the kingdom, or whatever."

"They are. I assure you, it is far closer than you think."

Emma grumbled under her breath. She pushed her hands against her legs in order to build momentum but in truth she was just trying her hardest not to fall over; a much more difficult task than what it looked. Slipping on the mud, she grabbed a hold of a branch to keep her steady and used it to reach the top of the hill…which just so happened to be a cliff edge. "Woah!" Emma yelled, flapping her arms to stop from teetering over and plunging to certain death. She felt a sharp tug and was quickly pulled back into the stronghold of Mulan.

The blonde released a shaky, nervous sigh. "Thank you," she breathed appreciatively.

"You're welcome," Mulan replied, letting her free. "Although, I would suggest keeping your impatience under control; we understand that you want to rescue Snow – we do, too, but rushing and getting flustered nearly killed you. Had you of waited for us instead of dashing ahead, you would have heard me tell you that the castle was just beyond the ridge." She pointed to the massive structure across from them. With its pointy turrets and quite drab colour scheme, Emma found the castle to be fit for an Evil Queen.

"So that's where Regina…ruled from?"

"Yes. It's also where your mother grew up."

Emma crinkled her forehead, her eyes wide as she realized what the warrior said was true. Sometimes it was so easy to forget the history her mother had with Regina; she was her step-mother. A step-mother who tried to put her to sleep for all eternity and destroy any chance she had of living happily ever after. Wow, and Emma thought she had complicated family issues.

But as she examined the building again, she envisioned a young Mary Margaret skipping around her home, growing up in those rooms and becoming the woman she was today. And suddenly, Emma's eyes pooled with tears – without any warning. She was kinda sick of how frequently she was getting emotional lately; it was like her tear ducts were somehow linked with every single feeling she had inside of her. It was quite disconcerting, actually.

"Are you okay?" Aurora timidly said, clearly debating whether to comfort her or not. Emma preferred the 'not' option.

"Yeah, I'm fine, I was just…thinking. Come on, let's go." At least the ability of shrugging off something hadn't left her yet.

* * *

The curse had ravaged through Regina's palace and debris of the life before littered every corner. Echoes of the once vibrant halls haunted them at every turn, sending shivers down Emma's spine and the chill of the emptiness lurked around them as if waiting for a moment to strike. The sheer malevolence of Regina – and possibly Cora – ricocheted from the framework and Emma just _knew _that Mary Margaret was being held there. No longer was it an instinct or an idea; it was the truth.

"This place unnerves me," Aurora whispered, cowering behind Emma. "I feel it holds many horrid memories."

"I feel it lonely," Mulan contributed, inspecting a broken jar on the ground, "like its purpose was never fulfilled."

"What purpose would that be?"

"A palace is where a royal family reside and it is clear that it was not a happy family home."

"No, it wasn't," Emma confirmed, her hands on her hips. "Now," she started, staring right at Aurora who shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny, "where would one find the dungeon here?"

"You're asking me?"

"Yeah, you're a princess aren't you? You lived in a palace?"

"Well, yes I did but that doesn't mean I know where it is here. Every castle is different."

Emma rolled her eyes, that weird feeling in the pit of her stomach returning. "Oh, come on, Aurora. Please at least guess."

The brunette took a deep breath, acknowledging the woman's wish. "Usually they are hidden. My father lived by impressions and he believed that anything contrary to what we lived by had to be locked away for the sake of pride so entrances to dungeons and the like were always covered. My guess is down the hall; possibly on the right."

"What exactly are we looking for?"

"An unassuming door that leads to a staircase."

"An unassuming door, really? Wouldn't it be better to have it hidden behind a fireplace or have a concealed trap door somewhere?"

"Sometimes the obvious choice is the right answer," she smiled.

"Yeah and sometimes it's not," Emma retorted. She meant for it to sound playful but it came out much harsher than she imagined. And Aurora's flinch away pretty much confirmed that. "Sorry," she apologised instantly. "We better start looking."

Mulan took the lead and the three of them travelled down the hallway. The only sounds to be heard were the subtle whooshes of breath and their shoes as they impacted with the stone floors. Every door they crossed they opened and studied carefully just in case there was a secret passage or something along those lines and secretly, Emma hoped that they would stumble across a magic corridor. She couldn't help it; her inner child that longed to fall through a trap door to escape whatever was going on in her life had resurfaced. However, with every wrong door, her heart quickened and she struggled to rein it all in.

Aurora, from the back of the pack, shuffled over to press her ear against the wall. "Here," she beckoned to the others, "I think I hear something." Without a shred of hesitation, Emma hurried over to get a closer listen.

"What are we listening for?"

"Quiet," the girl shushed.

Emma listened intently, closing her eyes so she wouldn't be distracted by anything.

And then she heard it.

Though it initially sounded like faint murmurs of an old building, once Emma focused, she realized that there were voices. Two, maybe three; she wasn't sure. But they were there and that only meant one thing: Mary Margaret was here. She placed her palms onto the brick wall, her fingertips searching for a latch or a hole – anything that would guarantee a way to get to wherever the voices were originating from. "Come on," she begged, "come on!"

"What are you doing?" Mulan flashed Emma a bewildered look.

"Trying to find a way down there, what does it look like?"

"Relax," Aurora commanded quietly yet forcefully. With a nod, she ordered both Mulan and Emma to follow her. The princess moved with more fluidity and poise than Emma had ever seen and her assurance was contagious. Emma trusted Aurora's instincts and went willingly and wordlessly. The girl led them down the hall, around a corner and down a few steps to which they arrived at another long corridor but before Emma could conjure up an impatient complaint, Aurora strode ahead, stopping a set of wooden, monstrous double-doors that were decorated with haunting black swirls. "Huh, we've the same doors," she mused with a smirk.

"Is that…does that…" Emma couldn't form the words, an uneasiness overcoming her as she worried about what she would see down there.

"Yes, it leads to the dungeon. I told you it would just be down the hall."

"Okay," the blonde breathed, "so are you guys ready?"

"We are; are you?" Mulan posed with a hint of compassion. Emma was certain Mulan didn't express that very often.

Rather than answer, Emma stepped up the door and inhaled deeply. She cautiously unbolted the doors and softly gave them a push open. Exchanging glances with her comrades, she passed through and started down the stairs, descending into the darkness.

* * *

Snow's strength had gone. She couldn't even hold her head up anymore and the more she tried to fight it, the more she felt broken. She wasn't sure, but it felt like she was dying. Sounds and smells no longer registered and her memory was one massive jumbled mess. She had a vague recollection of Cora appearing again, spouting something about…something. From what she gathered it wasn't good but any attempt to concentrate fell flat.

Her eyes drooped heavily and her body ached for her to succumb to the darkness, to rest, to make the pain go away and she couldn't fight it anymore. As she gave in, a noise sounded from far in the distance but Snow was sure that it sounded just like Emma…

* * *

They followed the tunnel, using the walls as their guide. Finally they reached a turn and in a second, Emma felt her heart burst.

She had found Mary Margaret.

Chained to a wall.

Not moving.

She sprinted over and grabbed a hold on the bars of her mother's prison and shook them ferociously. "Mary Margaret!" Emma screamed, tears rolling down her face. "Mary Margaret! Look at me! Please, open your eyes and look at me!" She pounded and kicked the metal, trying anything to unlock the gate, her panic in a frenzy. The brunette wasn't moving and from where she stood, she didn't appear to be breathing either.

"Mom, please wake up!" she pleaded again, her throat raw from her screech. From behind her, she could applause and she whipped around, sobbing, and watched as her enemy came into full view.

**What did you think? I tried to pick up the pace on this one, especially toward the end because it felt it was the right time. Now I just have to figure out how to handle the next chapter! Ha I really do hope you liked it and please, please review and let me know what you thought**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey all! Sorry it took me so long so update – I've been crazy busy and this chapter had me stuck for a while! Thank you all for the feedback on the last chapter; you are all awesome! Hope you like this one :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

"Congratulations, dear," Cora snarled, "I have to admit, I underestimated you. Though it would appear that you have very bad timing." She inched closer and closer and it took all of Emma's will not to back away and break under her piercing stare. Her tears continued to tumble down her cheeks, doing a good job at disguising the hatred that was rising up within her. She believed with every beat of her heart that Mary Margaret was still alive, that her mother was still somewhere inside of that shell chained to the wall. She desperately wanted to spin around and clang the bars some more in an effort to show the brunette that she was not alone; to do something that would ignite the last spark of hope she had but something told her that Cora would never give her the chance. No, her only options now were to face the music and stop the villain once and for all.

Wow, did her life sound like a movie or what?

"Actually I would say it was _you _who had the bad timing." It wasn't much of a come-back but it was enough to give Emma that extra bit of confidence she craved.

"Are you really going to threaten me?" she laughed mockingly. "I guess I _was_ right about you; empty threats are no match for what I can do. I assumed you had learned your lesson from our little escapade in your home." The words 'your home' stung Emma as she recounted all the emotions she felt as soon as she stepped foot into the life she was supposed to live with her parents. And hearing someone as evil as Cora fling those words around in an attempt to stir the situation made her tremble in aggravation. She had some nerve.

"Who ever said my threats were empty?" Yet again, Emma felt that weird, tingling sensation return and travel from her stomach to the extremities of her limbs. She felt…stronger, more powerful and that was confusing to say the least. It was like she was losing all control of herself, like her body was taking over and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Luckily before anything happened, Mulan and Aurora – at the same time – jumped to Emma's defence creating a barrier in front of her. If it were totally different circumstances, Emma may have even smiled at their display, but this was much more serious than the blonde could ever imagine. Composing herself, she wiped away the streaks of tears off her face and clenched her fists into balls at her sides.

In one swift movement, Mulan drew her sword and cupped it under Cora's chin. "One move and I'll make sure you never move again," she bullied, shaking slightly but keeping her stance firm and aggressive. Emma wondered whether she had ever faced such a nefarious opponent before; someone who handled problems with the use of magic rather than swords or bows and arrows.

Unfortunately, Cora seemed unfazed by the warrior's warning and continued to fix her eyes onto Emma. There was something in her eyes that Emma couldn't decipher but she threw her shoulders back, staring her down, unwilling to let the woman see the effect she was having on her. "One move and she dies." Yep, her threat definitely packed more of a punch than Mulan's and of course, the fact that the 'she' she was referring to was Emma didn't do much for her friends' confidences; they knew that Cora was more than capable of living up to her word.

"Is she dead?" Emma whispered, ignoring the tension in the room. There was only one question she had and one answer she needed to hear. Everything else was secondary.

Curling her lips and narrowing her eyes, Cora glared at her. "Not yet," she said, "but she will be soon."

It was like the next few seconds passed by in slow motion. With a slap of a hand, Mulan's sword was reefed out of her grip and sent hurtling through the air. There was very little Aurora could do to get out of its way in time. Ducking ever so slightly to the right as the blade raced toward her, she managed to narrowly avoid sudden death, however she found herself pinned to the bricks by the sword and whatever blue haze Cora was wielding. "No!" she exclaimed, her voice breaking under the pressure of her bondage. "Let me go!" She grappled desperately, her hands around her neck, the air being sucked out of her.

"Leave her alone!" Mulan screamed, finally reacting to the task at hand. In true valour, she lunged at the evil woman and somehow got a hold on her garment before Cora provided the punishment. She thrust the air with the back of her hand and Mulan careened into the metal bars, her head colliding with them at brute force. She crumpled onto the ground and Emma wasn't sure if she was unconscious or dead – and she didn't want to know. Knowledge like that would cause her to spiral and that was the last thing she needed.

She knew she should have moved, she should have done something – anything – to stop Cora from hurting her friends but it was like she was glued to the spot, paralyzed by terror. All she was truly aware of was that she was panting and shaking and that her mother may or may not be alive. Her limbs were uncontrollable, her vision blurry. In an effort to regain some kind of composure, Emma squeezed her eyes shut, focusing her energy and fury into one spot - but nothing could have prepared her for what happened next.

What could only be described as a sea of light flooded the room, its light blinding, and its heat unbearable. The dungeon shook violently, like an earthquake had pervaded the land. The room began to break apart with dust and chunks of stone dislodging from the walls and ceiling, attacking them underneath. Emma flung her arms over her head in an attempt to protect herself but it was too late. A loose stone dropped from above, connecting with her head, the crunching sound of her skull nauseating.

And then, her world went dark, with only the murmured screams of her companions filling the void.

* * *

There was a chuckle. Somewhere.

Close…or far away.

But it was definitely there.

The incessant thumping around her left temple was easing and Emma forced one eye open to inspect the damage. Her vision still blurred, she could just about make out the debris of the earthquake that littered the floor. It was only then that she realised that she was upright, not on the ground. The uneasiness she felt at that piece of information jolted through her body and she pulled both of her eyes open to see where exactly she was.

"Ah, you're awake." There was just the one voice; the one voice that made her skin crawl and her bones chill. Cora.

"Wha-what…what…" She couldn't string words together, the pain in her head still intense enough to have an enormous impact on her ability to, well, do anything.

"For a moment there I wasn't sure you had made it."

Sensing that her words were a failure, she fixated her glare onto Cora's face, taking in the injuries the woman must have sustained during the blinding light moment and subsequent shaking of the palace. She had a nasty deep cut just above her right eye, the blood stain ending at her lip, and she appeared to be supporting her arm against the wall, wincing ever so slightly when forced to move. Even the tone of her voice had less bite than usual.

Wanting to put an end to the ache in her head, Emma tried to put pressure on the wound only to realize that she was chained to the wall in a similar way in which Mary Margaret was entrapped.

And then, all of a sudden, the reality of the situation she found herself in hit home and she frantically searched around for Mulan, Aurora and her mother. The lingering residue of fallen bricks and the dim light provided a difficult search but the blonde was sure she could see two figures on the ground in the corner of the cell. If they were breathing she couldn't tell but she couldn't be pessimistic; everyone was still alive. They just had to be.

"Looking for someone?" Cora whispered, a smile evident in her voice. "Don't fret, dear, I can safely say that your sweet Snow is still with us…for now. Though your little 'moment' certainly caused her stress."

"Wher-where is she?" Emma demanded weakly.

"Take a closer look around you," she replied.

Listening to the order with zero indecision, Emma examined her surroundings; her eyes squinted to receive clearer images, her gaze fell on the wall opposite her. She could make out a silhouette restrained like she was. Emma knew it was Mary Margaret. A small bit of movement indicated that she was alive and allowing herself one moment of reprieve, Emma let out a sigh of relief, a few tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She was so sure that her mother was dead, that she was too late in her rescue attempt, but to have proof that she was still breathing was enough to regain some form of courage.

"Is she okay?"

No reply; just a sickening hitch of an eyebrow and curl of a lip.

"What happened?" she asked when enough time had elapsed, referring to the weird phenomenon they were exposed to before she blacked out.

To her dismay, Cora laughed manically. Not the response she had expected; the one time she wanted answers from her sworn enemy was the one time she rebuffed her. Of course it was.

"What's so funny?" Emma was in no mood for beating around the bush. If it were not for the shackles and her lack of any kind of energy, she would have pounced on her there and then.

Cora ambled closer to her, her smile doing little to mask the pain that she was obviously experiencing. Nevertheless she appeared far more amused than Emma thought possible. "You don't know?" She said that with a smidge-too-much innocence for Emma. When was she ever going to give a straight answer?

"No I don't know! I don't know what you're talking about or why the hell you have that poisonous smirk on your face! Tell me what happened!" Perhaps yelling was the way to go. Her blood was boiling in her face and each part of her body writhed in pain; she just wanted an answer that would quiet all of the doubts and fears and anxieties that swarmed her very being. Mulan, Aurora, Henry, David, Mary Margaret – all of these people plagued every thought she had. She had to make it okay; she had to get out, had to get home. Even if every attempt she made proved disastrous and she ended up worse than when she started, at least she tried. Trying had to count for _something. _She was never going to quit.

"What's the magic word?"

Unconsciously, Emma growled under her breath. "Pretty please with sugar on top?" she sneered.

"Your disrespect is noted. But because I enjoy dropping revelations and since I feel that this particular piece of information could in fact be quite enjoyable – for me anyway – I will let you in on a little secret." Emma continued to hold firm and stare her down. Somewhere in the depths of her soul, she believed that Cora wasn't kidding around; whatever bombshell Cora was about to unload was going to have repercussions for her for a very long time. "Why, you used magic, my dear."

The blonde's eyes grew as wide as saucers, and without even being aware of it, she wrestled with her chains, her composure suddenly shot. Nothing of what Cora said could be held as truth; she was just a regular person – she had never even spent any time in Fairytale Land prior to this visit. Plus her parents didn't possess magic. There was no way she had magic.

Was there?

"You're lying."

"And why would I lie about something like that? There's no reason for me to lie, for lying only disguises the truth for a time. Eventually, the truth comes out, so why wait? You. Used. Magic. I don't know how or why; all I know is that you did this." She gestured to the wreckage all around her. "I must say, you're very unpredictable. I did not see that coming. Your mother must be so proud." As if on cue, a moan emanated from opposite her – Mary Margaret was listening to the exchange.

Emma didn't care what she said; Cora was lying. She was.

"Why do you seem to be amused by this?"

The woman pushed back loose hair off Emma's face, a gesture that made Emma shake ferociously. "Because I know that this knowledge may distress more than anything else I say. Because you are the type of girl to run away from her problems and live in fear of what you are capable of. Instead of wielding power, you'll hide it away so that it will not taunt you. Thus, you will pose no threat to me other than what you have already done. You have the potential to be something great and if circumstances were different perhaps I would even take it upon myself and train you as my protégé but we both know that that idea will amount to nothing." Her tone was so conversational that it was almost as if she were sitting around a table having coffee with a few friends.

Emma didn't want to accept anything that Cora said but what she deduced about her character was true; Emma did tend to run when things got too overwhelming and having magical powers or whatever was not something she wanted to embrace with both arms. She didn't want to embrace it at all. Ever.

"Look, what are you trying to prove here, huh? What's the plan? You could have killed me when I was unconscious on the ground. Why lock me up and tell me all these things? Why…why am I still alive?" She would have preferred a bit more tact to her questions but in truth, she was afraid and afraid was not something she wore well. She was as vulnerable now as she had ever been; she was separated from her father and son, her mother's life was hanging in the balance, and who knows how her new friends were – it was a lot to deal with. And she was pretty sure that whatever was going to happen next was not going to fall into the 'happy' category of her life.

Cora seemed to contemplate her queries for a moment, taking in rhythmic breaths and searching the blonde's face. "I changed my mind."

"What does that mean?" Why did she insist on being so damn cryptic?

Her eyes grew dark, glazing over with a wicked film. "It means I've decided not to kill Snow White."

_That _was not what Emma was expecting; that wasn't even in the neighbourhood and against her better judgement, she felt her hope grow into something tangible…which could not be a good sign for things to come. "You have?" The muscles on her face relaxed for the first time since arriving at the dungeon.

"Oh yes. I have a much worse fate for her in mind. I'm going to kill _you _and _she's _going to watch."

**Please don't kill me for ending it there! This chapter was so difficult for me to write and action scenes and the like are not my strong point so I apologize if it came across as very weak. What did you all think? I know the idea of Emma having magic isn't exactly new but I thought it'd be an interesting route to take for the rest of the story. As always I really hope you enjoyed it and please, please review and let me know what you all thought! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**You guys are so amazing! Over 100 reviews – that is so awesome! Thank you! Hope you like what you read :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

Everything was dark; too dark to make anything out. In fact, Snow wasn't sure if her eyes were even open. Every part of her body hurt so much and unless her mind was playing tricks on her, there was an extremely good chance that her arms were giving up and no longer capable of performing normal tasks. Since her eyelids were on strike, the rest of her senses seemed to be hyper sensitized; she could smell some strong, striking aroma most likely in the form of perfume, she most definitely could sense the shackles that were cutting into her wrists and the piece of cloth that had made a home in her mouth, and she could hear a conversation taking place ahead of her.

The pain was excruciating and her body cried for relief from constraint. She was exhausted; so much so that she began to cry silently yet relentlessly, letting her tears tumble down the grooves of her face, helped very little by the truth that it was Emma and Cora who were conversing.

Snow couldn't even gather enough strength to spit out the dirty cloth and step in to defend her daughter. She was a shell of the woman she was a couple of days ago and now she was utterly useless in her duty as a mother.

"Wher-where is she?" Snow heard Emma ask weakly. It pained her to hear the desperation in the blonde's voice but it did highlight something that she was never certain on: her daughter did care for her and usually, under much lighter circumstances, that would swell her heart to its capacity, but right now all it did was make her anxious. Cora punishes people for having feelings and displaying actions of love – Regina and Daniel's tragic love story was proof of that. No, Emma was in big trouble. She continued to struggle as much as she could though she knew it was pointless. She managed to unclamp her eyelids and gaze into the dim area, just making out the silhouettes of the group.

"Is she okay?" Emma's tone was really scaring Snow now; she needed to see her, needed to comfort her, needed to tell her that no matter how despairing their problem appeared to be, they would get out of it. Together. Emma was someone who had to have reassurance in her life; she had to be shown that she was significant and worthy and there was nothing Snow wanted more than to show her that. All of the time she had spent apart from her, not being able to be there for her, echoed around in her head and it was like that guilt and that sadness was never ever going to vanish; she'd forever place blame on herself for everything.

In amid all of her distress, Snow had lost track of the conversation but she was drawn back in when she heard Cora utter, "You. Used. Magic."

Three words that never crossed her mind: Emma had magic. How did that happen? Snow had no experience of magic and she was pretty sure James' family didn't either. And then a thought struck her: Emma was destined for great things; she was the only one who could break the curse, the only one who could save everyone – she was special. True love had created someone who could do the most powerful things and break the most formidable of curses. Honestly, the idea of Emma having the ability to exercise magic was not as unbelievable as she initially supposed. In fact, it was incredible. Emma was deserving and she was worthy.

However, what Cora was going to do with this news remained to be seen and if anything, it would only put her daughter in a more precarious condition. That, added with Emma's evident anger and frustration, was only a recipe for disaster. But no longer did Snow have to live with the unknown; Cora was all too eager to express her scheme. If there was one thing that Cora was not, it was shy. Emphatic by nature, she thrived in being the best, being the one step ahead of everyone else – being the leader of the pack.

Yet out of all the scenarios she had concocted about what the woman might do to her or what horrific fate awaited her, she was none too prepared to hear the actual plan. "Oh yes. I have a much worse fate for her in mind. I'm going to kill _you _and _she's _going to watch."

Snow's head shot up, her glance darting rapidly from side to side, sweat developing on her brow, her heart hammering against her ribcage and sobs erupting from the very depths of her soul.

_This cannot be happening, it just can't be…_

_She called me 'Mom'; I can't lose her again. I can't…I can't lose my little girl again. No!_

The reality of her life hit her lie a ton of bricks and she scrambled for wisps of air in between blubs; the all-consuming fear too much to deal with anymore as she broke under the weight of emotion.

* * *

The eruption of sobs from the other side of the room was enough confirmation for Emma; Cora was going to kill her…right in front of her mother. Possibly the cruelest sickest display of power and evil was about to be enacted. Each heart-shattering, gut-wrenching sob from Mary Margaret cut through her body like a blade, and all she wanted to do in that moment was to pull her in for a warm hug. Just one hug that would assure her that everything was going to be okay and that she was loved. A little reassurance and comfort would go a long way. And the more she thought about it, when it came down to it, that was all Emma wanted out of life. The lifelong goal for her was not to conquer some spectacular feat or achieve wide recognition for making something out of her life; it was to finally reach a certain place, a point in her life where she was comfortable, where she could actually say that she was happy. And now as she stared her impending death in the face, she realized that she had reached that destination; finding her family and forging a deeper relationship with her son was the key to unlocking her happiness. She was no longer alone, no longer searching for answers.

And now that was about to be ripped away from her.

The smirk never left Cora's face as she sauntered over to a bound and gagged Mary Margaret who was verily distressed. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, her cheeks stained with tears, her expression one of innate sorrow and helplessness and she never, not once, removed her watery gaze from the blonde. The moment when their eyes met was Emma's breaking point. Her heart plummeted and she began to lose feeling in her whole body. Suddenly it felt all too surreal; she wasn't there anymore, she wasn't witnessing the end of her existence. Everything would just fade away and she would wake up in her own bed back at the apartment, safe and sound. She threw her head back, squeezing her eyelids closed and prayed that all this would just disappear.

Cora, in all of her twisted glory, wiped away the tears off Mary Margaret's face in the most tender and affectionate way possible while the brunette looked on in wide-eyed horror. Something in the way she held herself despite the position she was in showed Emma that she was willing to fight, that she was going to do anything she could to stop Cora's plan and that alone was sufficient for Emma. Knowing that her mother was refusing to give up hope forced Emma to believe that they would get out of this, for faith was the only thing she had left to cling onto.

With delicate gentleness Cora removed the cloth from Mary Margaret's mouth, automatically shushing her by pressing a finger against the woman's lips. She must have known that she would rip her head off shouting anything that came to mind; that gesture shocked her enough to leave her mute…for the time being.

"Please don't yell, Snow," she ordered softly. There was something so eerie about the way she acted; her calmness and serenity juxtaposing with her malice. "Raising your voice will do you no good; it will merely strain your voice."

Mary Margaret's voice was like ice. "You will not get away with this." Each word emphasised, Emma believed in nothing more.

"And on what grounds are you basing that?"

"You think you know me? You think you know my family? The Snow White you knew was just a kid, just a small, naïve child who thought she was doing what was best for your daughter but the Snow White you see now has a family and has survived more battles and obstacles than she can count. She is a fighter and if there's one thing my family does, is fight for the people we love and if there is one thing you can count on, Cora, it's that I will do everything in my power to protect my daughter." Obviously Mary Margaret was channelling her inner Snow because Emma had never seen her so defiant, so outspoken, so sure of what she wanted to convey. Her assurance seemed to rattle Cora just a bit as the woman digested the words slowly, her arrogance waning slightly.

"You like to talk, Snow, don't you? I've always noticed that about you; you're quick to voice your opinions, love to let people know what you think of them. Your speech was nice - a little dated, but still effective. But there's just one problem with it: it was just words. You're trapped, your daughter is trapped, your companions are out cold, and your husband, grandson and friends are in another realm. There is nothing you can do, my sweet."

She continued to meander toward Emma as if taunting Mary Margaret but Emma couldn't focus; all she could hone in on was the anguished yelps of her mother and best friend spreading throughout the room and understanding that she was the cause of her distress. She clenched her jaw in anticipation for what was to come.

Cora thrust the air with her open arms, seemingly summoning all of her power into one particular area. Suddenly, she was engulfed in a blast of brilliant purple that shuddered around the space, blinding Emma and forcing her to wince away from the flash. She had never seen anything like it. A wind picked up and the purple mist began to swirl violently, creating a vortex of dread in front of the blonde's eyes. With no need for warning Emma was pulled from the wall and thrown high into the air, her chains wrapping around her body, pushing her arms tight against her torso and pressing on her lungs so hard that breathing was proving highly problematic. Then again, that was probably the intended result.

"No!" she choked out as she locked gaze with Mary Margaret whose face was a canvas of pure horror. Though heavily light-headed and panicked, there was just something minute about the brunette's expression that caught enough of Emma's attention to hold on that little longer; it was as if Mary Margaret was instructing her about…something…somehow.

"Is there anything you would like to say to your dear mother?" Cora asked, letting out a cackle. What a witch.

"Emma," Mary Margaret said sternly, her head cocking to the right. The blonde could see that she was crying and doing anything to break her chains but her voice was so calm, so firm that Emma paid close attention. "You can do this."

"What?" She gasped for oxygen, her world beginning to turn dark.

"You know what. Don't be afraid. Just hold on!"

Of course she knew what she meant but how could she remain so collected?!

Staring down at Cora's smirk as she grappled with dying, Emma clenched her fists and had one last idea that she hoped would postpone this for a little longer. She felt the stinging all over her body and knew what she had to do. With a kick of her leg for momentum, she jerked her hands open and, to her actual surprise, a bright bolt of electric blue cascaded around her, connecting with Cora's flow and sending her flying across the room against the far wall.

Cora's magic petered out and Emma dropped to the floor with a mighty thud, but being new to the magic scene, Emma couldn't stop her surge as it continued to batter the already weak walls of the dungeon.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret yelled, her body encapsulated by the dazzling light. "Emma you have to stop it!"

"I don't know how!"

"You have to relax!" Emma wasn't sure when but while she and Cora were in a duel to the death, Aurora and Mulan had risen to their feet, clearly still breathing and not looking too beaten up – much to Emma's relief. Aurora was the only one who seemed to possess a clear head as rods of brightly coloured hazes encompassed them. "Just quiet yourself and let your anger go! It's the only way to stop!"

"Eh, freeing anger is not something that comes easily to me!"

"Please try!" her mother yelped.

The despondency as she spoke provided Emma with the only incentive she needed to remain alert and attentive. She drew her hands together and tried to focus all of the energy into the space in front of her but the intensity frightened her and in one flash, another burst exploded in Cora's direction, dismantling segments of bricks all around them.

And then it was gone.

All of the energy she had generated had disappeared in the blink of an eye leaving nothing but devastation in its wake. Rubble from the damaged walls and ceiling of the dungeon cluttered the floor and its dust permeated Emma's lungs making it practically impossible to drag in any clear air. Instead, breathing was replaced with hearty coughing.

"Emma?"

"Mary Margaret?" She let out another stream of splutters as she crawled on her hands and knees in her mother's direction. "Are you okay?"

"I think so but my leg is stuck. You?" The ringing in Emma's ears was so deafening that the brunette sounded so far away…and worried.

"Honestly? I've been better," she managed to reply, manoeuvring her way through in the least painful way. She thought she heard Mary Margaret chuckle at her response but that could have just been her mind spinning out; she was sure that she was in some kind of shock. Getting into situations such as this was not something that one should be used to.

"Everything's going to be okay." How was that, even though everything around them was literally a mess – not to mention frightening, she could just utter a few simple words and suddenly nothing seemed as bad anymore? It was like her superpower. The way Mary Margaret could make Emma feel safe with just a nod of the head or a subtle wave of a hand was sort of remarkable.

"Oh yeah, what makes you say that?"

"Because we're all still alive," Mulan answered straight, somehow next to Emma helping her to her feet.

"For now. What about Cora?" The dust was beginning to settle and visibility was clearing. Thankfully, Emma could make out Mary Margaret in front of her attempting to free herself of the shackles and push off a pile of stone that held her foot hostage.

Wordlessly, Mulan gestured toward an enormous mound of debris.

"Is she…dead?"

"I wouldn't count on it," Mary Margaret interjected, releasing her foot with a forceful kick. "But we may have bought ourselves some time. Mulan do you have your sword at hand?"

"Of course." The warrior removed the blade from her sheath and with a quick snap of the wrist had managed to cut through the brunette's chains. "There."

"Does that sword ever leave your side?"

She didn't even wait a second before replying. "No." So direct.

Mary Margaret gaped at her free arms, her eyes alight. With a watery smile she launched herself at Emma, wrapping her arms around her so tightly that Emma was sure she had cracked a rib, but the joy of having her mother with her after what they just went through overtook anything else she was feeling in that moment. For that moment it was just Mary Margaret and Emma, mother and daughter.

"You found me," the woman breathed.

"Seems like a recurring theme," Emma joked with a sniffle, not realizing that she had begun welling-up.

"Thank you for saving me." She pulled away to get a good look at the blonde, smiling widely and brushing away any stray tears.

"Yes, what you did was quite…something," Aurora said. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like it."

"Me neither," Emma agreed with a humourless laugh. "I didn't really have time to flick through 'Magic for Dummies' before I came out here."

"You were brilliant," Mary Margaret praised, touching her daughter's arm lightly which invited a meek smile from her.

"We must move out," Mulan ordered, taking control so that they all did not forget what was at stake. "The mirror should be around here somewhere."

"The mirror?"

"Mulan thinks that Regina has a magical mirror somewhere here in the castle that could be a portal back to Storybrooke," Emma explained to her mother.

"Well then we better get looking."

**So what did you all think? Loved it? Hated it? Indifferent? I'll try to update as soon as possible but everything is just crazy right now so please stick with me! Haha I sincerely hope you all enjoyed it and please, please, please review and let me know what you thought! Please be honest and any suggestions are more than welcome! :D**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey! Thank you all again! This has more Snow/Emma moments so I hope you like what you read :D**

**I do not own OUAT.**

With trepidation, the four women climbed the beaten steps out of the dungeon hoping that the ascension would wash away the memories of their time spent down there. For each of them, the dungeon epitomised true terror and the feeling of captivity, that life as you knew it was over. Witnessing Cora's full potential of power and the extent to which she would go in order to reign victorious was an eye-opener, and Emma never felt more grateful to be alive. Though if she was honest, the way in which she escaped her clutches was a bit of a shock to the system. Never, under any circumstances, did she ever think that she was capable of controlling magic or of battling an evil sorceress; usually getting up in the morning and going to work was enough for her. The last thing she desired was for life to take drastic turn after drastic turn – she'd had so much of that growing up and was in no position to have this as a regular occurrence.

And yet she was far more rattled than she thought she would be. Her adrenaline levels were slipping and now all she could feel and think about was related to the moment where she released that blue mist and catapulted her adversary across the room. Emma raised her hands out in front of her, examining them as she flipped them back and forth. How could her plain, completely ordinary hands generate such a mass of power?

"Emma, are you okay?" Mary Margaret asked, leaning in close to her as they marched so that the other two couldn't hear them. Everyone was being especially quiet; most likely gathering their own thoughts and thanking the gods that they had been given another chance.

_Was_ she okay? And what exactly did 'okay' stand for? Emma wasn't sure if she would ever cross the line into 'okay' ever again; not when she had just entered a foreign territory. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think straight. Even putting one foot in front of the other was an accomplishment in itself.

"Whatever it is, you can tell me," the brunette assured, noting the blonde's reluctance to convey any kind of answer. "I know we're on the path to establishing a relationship as mother and daughter but we were best friends before any of this and I'd like to think that we could still talk and confide in one another as friends without all the baggage that follows us around." The smile that crept into her voice as she finished lifted a weight off Emma's shoulders that she didn't even know she was carrying around. She needed to hear that. At one point she feared that the bombshell that was her best friend being her mother would force them to lose that friendship that she cherished so much and twist it into something entirely different that neither one of them knew how to navigate. Yes, Mary Margaret was her mother and that truth bore so much joy and relief but she was her best friend first and Emma hoped that that relationship would never fade away.

"You really think we can do that?"

The question caught Mary Margaret off-guard and her face contorted in puzzlement. "Of course we can," she replied quickly, "why on earth would you think otherwise?" She cupped the blonde's elbow to attract her attention and force her to make eye-contact. Emma hated that move; it was such a motherly thing to do.

"Well there's the whole you giving birth to me thing," Emma stated without a hint of timidity. There was no point in shying away from the truth anymore – not after the past couple of days anyway. "I mean, that changes…everything."

"I don't think it has to. Obviously it will some time to get used to and there will be adjustments to a certain extent but doesn't mean that we can't be friends, too."

"But that's just it; it won't be the same. I'll never look at you the same and you'll never look at me the same and that's just the way it is. That's the way it's going to be from now on." She had no idea where this was coming from especially following, well, everything. Her line of conversation was so misplaced and yet, it was like the words were just flowing out of her. Must have been the shock talking.

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes at Emma's deduction, clearly not buying into her idea. She crossed her arms and shot her a smirk. "Are you going to tell me if you're okay or not or am I supposed to live with the unknown?"

Surprising herself, Emma laughed lightly, recognising that she may have taken the conversation slightly overboard. She looked at her mother and her kind demeanour and knew she couldn't run away from this because…Mary Margaret was faster than she was. "I'm…I'm not okay. I, eh, I'm…scared."

"Of Cora?"

"Of myself. What I'm capable of. Never in a million years did I think that I could do something like that." She crossed her arms, holding herself together. "Magic and enchantments and spells and all that stuff were things I didn't believe in not too long ago so to discover that I could make blue lightning bolt things fly out of my hands and cause so much damage is a really frightening thing. I mean, look at all this." She gestured around to the destruction caused by her little earthquake; it was amazing that the structure was still standing. Doors were flung all over the place, bricks and stones lined the corridors and delicate objects laid smashed into tiny pieces on the floor. "_I _did this. _Me. _With my own bare hands. Who knows what else I can do, what I might do? I could seriously hurt somebody; someone I love."

"Oh, Emma, that'll never happen," Mary Margaret shushed, running her hand through the blonde's hair soothingly. "I promise. I know you and I know that you could never hurt anyone you care about no matter how powerful you are."

Emma wanted to hug her as a gesture of thanks for having such calming words at a time where she felt completely out of control of her own body; it was like it was a separate entity entirely and there was little she could do once it was in full force.

"I think up here is our best shot," Mulan interrupted with casual sternness, her eyes shifting from side to side making sure that the coast was clear. No one knew for sure whether Cora was still with them or not and Emma was grateful that they had someone like Mulan with them to keep them all alert and on track.

"What makes you say that?" Mulan was the one who had relayed the mirror story to them and thus, their only source in finding it yet Emma was a sceptic and too used to doing things on her own to take heed to people's advice at first.

"This was the Queen's bed chamber; this would be the obvious place to put it."

"Just lying around in the bedroom? Shouldn't something like that be kept in, I don't know, a cellar or a secret passage?"

"I think you've read too many stories," Mulan said with just a tad bit of jest. "Where better to start?"

"Alright, then. Lead the way."

* * *

Snow could tell Emma was on edge; she tiptoed around as if believing that the slightest of movements would cause some kind of cataclysmic reaction and the whole world would turn in on itself. If it were not such a serious situation Snow may have even treated her wariness with a laugh and a joke, but she saw how frightened her daughter was. Her body was actually shaking and though she tried her best to calm her down, Emma didn't seem to be showing any signs of serenity.

And the castle was in pretty bad shape. Regina's room had been verily ruined with parts of the framework ripped away, exposing the structure's weaknesses. Finding the mirror was one thing, but finding it in one piece and useful was another. And then there was the little matter of locating the sparkly wardrobe ashes.

It was so frustrating; once they made a breakthrough and got a step closer to making it back home, they were thrown yet another obstacle that proved more difficult than anticipated, greatly hindering their progress. Snow longed for her husband's touch, to feel his strong arms around her melting away all of her problems. She wanted to see her grandson's toothy grin and just be a part of his life. They needed to get home.

She gazed over at Emma who was tentatively flipping over loose boards and checking underneath and behind them for any sign of a mirror.

Her daughter had saved her. In an unorthodox manner, no doubt about it, but Emma risked her life to save her. On one level, Snow felt a sense of guilt for that. Emma still harboured twinges of resentment and still kept her heart guarded – that was plain to see – but she gambled dearly when she went after her and even though it sounded a tad absurd, Snow didn't feel worthy of that kind of gesture. She loved Emma more than anyone could ever know and would always so, and there was nothing she cherished more than the thought that her daughter cared for her and loved her back, but Snow felt as though she could never forgive herself for letting Emma live twenty-eight years of her life alone despite the circumstances being out of her control. By saving her from the curse, she essentially placed her under a different one – the curse of loneliness, and her heart throbbed as she thought of the life her daughter had led up to this point. Snow would always feel the weight of that decision beating down on her.

"You're right," she said quietly, raising her head.

"Huh?" Emma dropped what looked to be a leg of a table onto the floor and moved closer to the brunette, marginally stumbling over a broken item but regaining balance quick enough.

"You're right," Snow reiterated. "I won't look at you the way I used to before the curse was broken. Now I look at you and my heart swells with joy and love and I can hardly believe that I have you back in my life. I see my daughter; someone I love _so _much. So you're right, it won't be like before."

Emma's expression was a mixture of emotions, each one unreadable. "I…"

"No, wait," Snow interrupted, "let me finish. No, we won't be the friends we were, but maybe now we can be even better ones. Even though I am your mother and that adds a whole new dimension to our relationship, the traits I loved most about you as a friend…I still see them. I see your kindness, your assertiveness, your love for Henry and your willingness to be the hero for him; your ability to make something out of your life shines through everything that you do, Emma. It's quite remarkable, actually. Your strength and courage are inspiring. I saw all of these things from the very beginning; they are what made me trust you and want to get to know you – those characteristics are what made me want to be friends with you and now, they are amplified. We will always be friends. We will always be family." She cupped the blonde's cheek, rubbing feathery circles with her thumb. "I love you, Emma; always have, always will."

Emma's expression softened somewhat and she cast her eyes downward. "I-"

"I don't think it is possible for the mirror to withstand the devastation the castle has undergone," Mulan offered, kicking shrapnel out of her way aggressively.

"No, wait," Aurora announced, pushing a load of rubble out of her way. "I think I see something."

Emma was quickly by the princess' side, assisting her in any way that she could: pushing, shoving, kicking – whatever.

Finding the mirror was their first priority but Snow couldn't help but feel a tiny bit cheated over the timing; Emma was about to respond to her declaration and whether her reply was what she wanted to hear or not, at least she would have known where they stood.

* * *

_I love you, Emma._

It was a truth she was very aware of and yet, as the words stung the air, Emma found herself concaving and looking for an escape. Those were some serious words; words that held promise and came with consequences. Words that could alter all she knew, change her perspective, break down any protective walls that remained upright around her heart. Every broken wall indicated significant growth in her relationship with her parents and her son, but it also deepened her vulnerability, her insecurity and inevitably, her fear of being hurt. It would seem that the idea of dealing with emotional pain was always going to be a part of Emma's life, always going to be in the background simmering until things get too much and then exploding in spectacular fashion.

She wasn't ready to hear that sentiment aloud – not yet.

She was afraid. 'I love you' scared her because, from past experience, she knew that love faded; it didn't remain unchanged as time went on. It was prone to alteration.

So instead of returning an answer, she jumped right in and helped Aurora remove any obstructions that were in the way of the mirror. The princess was frantically picking up loose bricks and tossing them behind her, her upper body strength quite impressive. Emma's body still ached from the exertion earlier and so she was more sluggish than she would have liked, her arms not able to hold up a good deal of the load. The blonde was just happy that her companions were not as badly injured as she was, though they were sporting some rather nasty looking cuts and bruises.

The hairs on her neck stood up as she felt her mother's sorrowful, confused eyes boring holes into the back of her head however she couldn't build up enough bravery to turn around and meet her stare for fear of what she would find there. Why was she so afraid of confessing her true feelings to her mother? She had just risked her life to find her and save her from certain death because she couldn't bear the thought of never seeing her again or being a part of her family, of her life. She put everything on the line because…because she loved her. She loved her Mom. There it was – the honest answer.

So why couldn't she say it to Mary Margaret's face?

"Is that it?" Aurora said, yanking Emma back to reality.

She studied the object in front of her. The frame was battered and missing tiny fragments here and there, but amazingly, the mirror itself was intact.

"I would assume so," Mulan affirmed.

"Mary Margaret?" Emma had no idea if Mary Margaret would know what a magic portal mirror looked like or how it worked but she was the closest thing they had to this sort of stuff and so her opinion was greatly valued.

The woman took slow, deliberate steps toward it, fixating her gaze at her reflection. "I'm…I'm not really sure. I've never seen one before." She paused and tilted her head to the side. "But if every other mirror in this palace has been broken and this is the only one that is left and in one piece, then it has to be."

That was good enough for Emma. "Okay, so there's the first thing out the way."

"The first thing?" Mulan questioned.

"Yeah. There's still the matter of the wardrobe ashes to attend to-"

"That's what I don't understand," Mulan added before Emma could finish her sentence. "If Cora had the ashes and had time to search the palace for the mirror, why didn't she just go? Why wait? Why hold Snow captive?"

That was a good question and one Emma wanted to hear the answer to.

"Because she needed one of us," Mary Margaret said. "I'm no sorceress or spell caster, but I have been around my fair share of magic to have a hold on how it works." Everyone waited for her to continue; the anticipation palpable. "I think it's connected to feelings – not all of the time, but in particular situations. In order for the portal to send her to Storybrooke, Cora needed to be connected to the place, had to have some kind of bond and desire to go there. She couldn't just will herself to go through – the mirror wouldn't let her because her only association with our home is vengeance. Storybrooke isn't something she can picture and therefore, she was unable to pass through. She needed either me or Emma to bridge that gap and make the link."

That all sounded a bit too convoluted and confusing for Emma but there was nothing in Mary Margaret's explanation that she could doubt. Whatever she was saying must have been true. "Okay but that still doesn't help us much; we still have to find the ashes otherwise we can't go through."

Aurora's eyes twinkled and a slight smile danced on her lips. "There's no need to find them. I have the ashes right here." She reached into her shawl and pulled out the small bottle with the ashes sparkling like stars in the sky.

**What did you all think? :) How did you all feel about the Snow and Emma conversation? I know it seems a little misplaced considering what they just went through but I figured that that issue was something they were going to have to deal with eventually and what better time than now after they've defeated the villain? Ha if you think it was weird or completely random or if you just didn't like it at all, please let me know! I realize the plot didn't move forward a lot in this chapter but I really just wanted to focus on Emma/Snow and lend a little insight into their thoughts and such. As always I hope you all enjoyed it and please, please review and let me know what you all thought! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you all so much! I love hearing what you all think – it's great motivation! Hope you enjoy this :)**

The smile never left Aurora's face as she raised the bottle to the air. She was clearly elated at keeping her little surprise a secret. The ashes glistened against the harsh light that seeped its way into the room through the cracks in the walls and for once, Emma was completely speechless. All she could do was watch the dust dance in all its shiny glory and come to terms with what it meant – they could go home. Home to Henry, home to David, and home to their friends.

Not to mention fresh clothes.

"How did you get it?" Mary Margaret asked what was on everyone's lips. Even Mulan – who was rarely anything but pensive – was stunned at the princess' feat, eyeing her as if she was some alien creature. Yet there was some pride underlying that initial cluelessness.

Aurora brought the delicate item close to her chest. "After Emma enacted her…" she paused momentarily to conjure up an appropriate choice of word, "magic and…"

"Destroyed the infrastructure? Yeah, we know, you can skip that part," Emma chimed, shoving her hands in the back pockets of her jeans, still slightly embarrassed at what took place earlier. She knew she had no need to be ashamed but she wasn't the type to take failure in her stride; it always obtruded her path, made her feel inferior to others.

Mary Margaret rolled her eyes but let out a small giggle at Emma's self-deprecating humour; she could always turn something serious into something laughable in a split second just with a single word or a tone of voice. Wordlessly, she rubbed circles on the blonde's back, a smile lighting her face. Emma could see that the brunette was appreciative of the fact that she no longer shied away from any kind of contact with her and Emma finally realised how far their relationship had progressed in that she didn't want to pull away, she didn't want to be reticent anymore. She wanted to be completely at ease and even though she hadn't reached that point just yet, this signified the beginning of a fresh start for her. Small gestures mean huge things.

"Well I saw an opportunity to do something that I wouldn't normally do; I was dazed and hurt but Cora was distracted and I…I don't know…I just took a risk. I noticed she was carrying a small pouch and I thought that the ashes must be in it so just before you made your move I reached out and snatched it from her person. I thought for sure she would notice and end me there and then, but as fortune would have it, you have good timing. She never even knew."

"Why risk it at all?" Mulan piped, her face creased in bewilderment. "If you feared her reaction then why do it?"

Aurora crossed the room, her whole demeanour contemplative. "Why not?" she replied, spinning around so as to face them from where she stood. "I look at you two and I see the desire to reunite with your loved ones; I see the love you have for each other. How can I not help something that is so pure, so deserving? I don't have a family; I don't have people to care about me anymore but I know what it is like to have that and I would never stand by and watch someone struggle to have it back when there is something I can do to aid them. It is too cruel a fate to do nothing." She spoke with assurance and confidence, of someone who knew exactly what they were doing and never before had Emma ever looked at the princess with more respect than in that moment. Here was this young girl with no family, no true love, willing to sacrifice everything for two strangers because she has a kind heart – it really was the stuff of fairytales.

Mary Margaret danced over to the fair-haired girl and embraced her tightly with Aurora taking no time to deliberate before wrapping her arms around her and drinking in the gratitude. "Thank you," Mary Margaret breathed, her words dripping in sincerity.

She didn't want to intrude on the moment or tarnish the atmosphere that had fallen upon them but Emma was still in her 'wary of the villain that was Cora' mindset and all she wanted to do now was get the mirror to work and ship them back to where she – they – belonged. Of course there was always the chance that Cora was dead but Emma wouldn't bet money on her not coming back to life and exacting revenge in some ghost-like way that was both petrifying and painful. And then there was the possibility that she was still very much alive and on her way to do just that.

"So how do we get this thing to work?" she queried, inspecting the mirror up and down not really sure how the instrument was supposed to take two fully grown women to Maine.

"That's the hard part," Mulan remarked. Always so optimistic.

"Can we not just plug in some GPS coordinates and hey presto, Storybrooke?"

Mary Margaret chuckled. "I'm afraid it's not as simple as that."

"Okay so what do we have to do?"

The brunette scrunched her nose as she thought and placed one hand cradling her chin while the other cupped her hip. "Well, I'm not exactly sure," she confessed sheepishly. "I mean I have an idea but it's just that – a thought that may or may not work."

Emma didn't like that 'may not' part. As far as she was concerned, the mirror was the only possible way left for them to get home – an idea was better than nothing. "Well, where does it drop us off?"

Mary Margaret shrugged. "That's the main problem; it could leave us anywhere. Perhaps to place even more dangerous than here."

That didn't sound too good, either. "Right. There must be a way to reconfigure it so that Storybrooke becomes the intended destination and not…Neverland or Wonderland or any other kind of 'lands' that exist. It can't be that complicated; we just need a switch or something." She knew she sounded silly and naïve, but if it was reality there would have been some button she could press and they'd be home quicker than she could say 'Storybrooke'. Why in a world where magic existed was everything so complicated?

The brunette quirked her eyebrow. "You make it sound like a microwave."

Aurora cocked her head to the side in confusion. "What's a microwave?"

With a smirk, Emma locked eyes with her. "Our world's answer to magic," she said. "Okay, so what's the plan?" Mothers always had plans and her mother was Snow White so…she must have had a plan, right? That's what Emma told herself anyway. All these obstacles were really starting to get on her nerves now and she wasn't sure how long she could keep fighting it – it was one thing after another, almost as if God, the universe, fate, whatever, just didn't want them to make it back. "How are we going to do this?"

"_We _can't. _You _are the only one who could do this, Emma.

Pressure. So much pressure. Ever since she arrived in Storybrooke and encountered all these people and spent time in that little town, she had felt an overbearing sense of responsibility and obligation to help them in any way she could. And then of course with the curse it was up to her to save them from a doomed, miserable existence. Always with the pressure. Emma was not the reliable type; she had been a nomad, moving place to place, never settling, and never being accountable for anything or anyone besides herself. But that was a different story now. Now she had a new path to traverse on, a new destiny to uphold.

She had to get them home. And she would do that if it was the last thing she ever did.

For courage she looked to Mary Margaret, to Snow White and with a solitary nod she conveyed to her that she was ready to do whatever was necessary.

"Like I said, I think your magic is connected to your emotions – I'm not pretending to know how or why but that's what appears to happen. The ashes will enchant the mirror and you'll have to make the connection, as it were. You have to emotionally link yourself to Storybrooke."

"Okay not to be uncooperative or anything but how exactly am I supposed to do that?"

Her mother softened her tone and took the blonde's hands in hers, lightly circling her knuckles. "It's easier than it sounds," she assured quietly. "You just have to think about why Storybrooke means so much to you, why you want to go back there."

To Mary Margaret's dismay, Emma laughed as she bowed her head. "Really? That's what I have to do?"

"I know how it sounds but this is the only way it will work. In weird twisted logic and reasoning, this actually does make sense."

"You sure about that?" Emma retorted in a playful way.

"You can do this," the woman whispered, displaying nothing but that tenderness Emma had become so familiar with since the very first day she had met Mary Margaret.

* * *

_Think about what Storybrooke means to you. _

The plan was to give Emma some time to really ponder that and get to a point where she believed she was able to summon enough magical power to send them through the portal and back to their family. Once she was ready, Aurora was to sprinkle the ashes onto the mirror and then it was Emma's time to shine…literally.

Snow wanted to give her daughter some space but she couldn't keep her eyes off her from across the room. The blonde was pacing back and forth, her arms gesticulating rhythmically in front of her, her shoulders hunched in thought. She knew it wouldn't take long for Emma to find something that clicked and she had every faith in her to bring them home. Though, Snow could tell that Emma felt that weight, that burden on her and that was the last thing she wanted her daughter to feel but Emma possessed something Snow had never witnessed before – magic more powerful than Cora. The blonde didn't just have some ability, she was able to pull of the most incredible acts and overcome the most formidable adversary Snow had ever come face to face with. Emma was special and was able to do just about anything once she believed that she could.

No, Snow didn't worry about her finding a way to get them home. She was proud of her; proud to call such an amazing, beautiful woman her daughter and proud to see her reach her full potential.

Against her earlier decision, she wandered over to her and placed a calming hand on her shoulder. When she turned around, Snow saw nothing but deep concern in her eyes. "What's wrong?" she asked, tucking a blonde lock behind the woman's ear.

"I have nothing. I don't know what to do and I don't know how much time we have and I-"

Snow cut her off. "Emma, breathe, relax. Everything is going to be okay. I know it, I can feel it. Besides, you've only been trying for five minutes at most; it'll come. I believe that with all of my heart."

"But how will I know when – if it does?"

The brunette smiled warmly. "Trust me, you'll know."

She would have loved to give her a tight hug right there and then but she was afraid to do anything that would make Emma uncomfortable. But as she started to walk away, Emma reached out and clinched her elbow, forcing her to stop and turn back around. Before she could utter a sound, Emma locked her in a warm embrace, her arms tightening around her just for a second before they broke away.

"Thank you," Emma said.

* * *

Emma didn't know where to begin or what would trigger the magical properties that she consisted of and she was starting to worry. What if she couldn't do it? What if Cora had survived and was on her way to rip them limb from limb? What if she was their only chance to get back home?

She paced and paced and paced trying to centre herself and let her thoughts drift to Storybrooke and the feelings she had whenever she thought about a particular place or person, but just when she thought she was getting somewhere, she was pulled back to the cold, ruined room she found herself in and her frustration was only mounting. She wanted to cry. That was the honest truth. Everything was just too much and the more she willed herself to do what she figured impossible, the more closed off she became and the more she struggled with…everything.

Mary Margaret was right; Emma was the kind of person who needed stability, who needed reassurance.

And when her mother came over to her and told her that she believed that she could do it, Emma let go and cast any doubts she had out of her mind.

She ambled over to a free corner and rested the back of her head against the wall, eyes shut. With steady, slow, deliberate breathing, she began to relax and allowed her emotions to guide her rather than trying to compel them into whatever direction she thought best.

And then it was easy. What made her connection to Storybrooke so strong, so intense was the sense of belonging she encountered as soon as she drove her yellow bug past the border. For the first time Emma had found a place to call home, and she had a family. She had Henry.

Henry. Just his name alone sent subtle shockwaves through her veins and her passion and commitment to being the best mother she possibly could be spurred her intent into something tangible. She loved that boy so fiercely. In fact, she was positive that she loved him the first time he ever spoke to her; only then she tried to suppress any kind of inkling she had and brush it off as nothing. Now…now there was no more denying. She wanted to be his mother more than anything else; she wanted to raise him and teach him all sorts of things, and learn some from him in the process. She desired to have a special parent-child bond with him, much like the one being formed between herself and Mary Margaret.

Mary Margaret. Her mother. Her best friend. The first person to show her such innate generosity and friendship. Because of her, Storybrooke became her home; it became a place where she actually wanted to set down roots and spend more than a few months. Having someone to trust her, believe in her and want her around affected Emma more than words could say; that was all she ever wanted when she was younger but she had it in her grasp now. And most importantly, Mary Margaret – her mother – loved her unconditionally.

And she loved her back.

The shockwaves became more intense and Emma started to notice the light-headedness kick in – something was going to happen soon.

And then there was the father she desperately had to get to know. She knew him as David but now it was the time for her to meet Prince Charming, her father, and learn everything there was to know about the man and discover what she had inherited from him. She just wanted to know him.

That was what Storybrooke meant to Emma Swan.

Feeling like an electrically charged battery, Emma jolted to her feet, a broad smile spreading across her face. "I can do this," she said aloud, alerting her companions.

"I always knew you could," the brunette affirmed with a watery beam.

"Let's get you both home," Aurora breathed, suddenly looking very emotional. She took up position next to the mirror and inhaled deeply. "I hope you both return safely."

"It has been a pleasure accompanying you," Mulan interjected sincerely, raising her head. "Good luck."

"Thank you; good luck to you both, too," Mary Margaret said. "Your bravery and friendship will never be forgotten."

The woman turned to the blonde and took her hand, squeezing it. "You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be."

Emma nodded to Aurora and the princess released the dust onto the object, illuminating its framework with shades of green and purple.

It was time.

Emma tightened her grip on her mother's hand and readied herself for what was to come. "Mary Margaret?"

"Yes, Emma?"

"I just want you to know that I…love you, too."

And with a heave of her shoulders and a thrust of her right arm, a bright white light enveloped them along with the mirror and just like that, they were no longer in Regina's palace in the Enchanted Forest.

They were tossed and turned around a sea of colourful haze, spiralling uncontrollably. It took all of Emma's might to keep a hold onto Mary Margaret and she sensed that her mother was doing the same. Suddenly, they were out of the rainbow whirlpool and on cold, damp soil.

Opening her eyes, Emma crawled up to her knees, assessing her surroundings. "Ha, we did it!" she exclaiming, jumping to her feet. "Mary Margaret, we're home!"

Offered a hand, the brunette got to her feet and immediately hugged the blonde closely, running a hand through the blonde locks. "Welcome back to Storybrooke, Emma," she whispered.

**I know the way I got them home wasn't exactly technical but I thought it'd be a good way to get Emma to really think about what her family means to her and I hoped it turned out ok! What did you all think? Please be honest!**

**The next chapter will have to have some kind of Charming family reunion but I want to know if people want me to continue with the story or end it there and if you think I should keep going, what would you like to see? I would love some suggestions!**

**Reviews are greatly appreciated! Looking forward to hearing from you! **

**Oh, and what did we all think of the mid-season finale? :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**So there'll be a reunion in this chapter and I hope you all like it! :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

"I can't believe we're finally here!" Emma exclaimed, pulling her mother in for yet another hug. Her state of elation was hardly touched by the cool, damp air that blew around them. Loosening her grip and leaning back, Emma scanned their surroundings to get an idea of just exactly they were. "It's the well," she marvelled. "It really does have magical properties." She mounted herself onto the step and angled her body just enough to take a peek into its depths, her hands running over the rough, uneven stone just to make sure it was real. To make sure they were really home.

She felt a tug at the sleeve of her jacket and turned around to meet Mary Margaret's sparkling eyes. "You did it," she breathed with wonder.

"Yeah…I guess I did." Emma took another look around her finally understanding that them being back home was all her doing. She used magic to send them through a magical mirror. That was what she did. And no matter how many times she repeated that in her head, she was positive that she'd never fully comprehend that. Although, that may have been the contributing factor to the overwhelming fatigue she was hit with as soon as she took a moment to collect her thoughts. The light-headedness had faded and left an erratic thumping between her eyes; her arms ached and her knees were on the verge of buckling – of that she was sure. Must be a delayed reaction.

Instinctively, she grabbed onto her mother's forearm to remain steady. Unfortunately for her, Mary Margaret was a tad bit more perceptive than Emma had originally thought. "You need to sit down for a few minutes, Emma. You need to rest."

"No," she protested, starting to walk away. "What I need is to see my son and tell him I love him. Rest can wait."

"But Emma you can hardly walk," the brunette laughed quietly at the blonde's stubbornness when it was clear that walking in a straight line was pretty much impossible. But deciding against entering into an argument, Mary Margaret quickened her pace to meet alongside her and draped an arm around her waist, inviting Emma to throw one around her shoulders.

"Thank you," Emma said. "I just…I just need to see him."

"I know. I know what it's like to need to see your child." There was a sadness to the brunette's tone that alarmed Emma. And as if out of nowhere, a sorrowful thought struck Emma as they ambled: Mary Margaret never got to see her child.

"Are you okay?" That seemed as good a question as any. Vague enough to tempt a response.

The woman tightened her hold and gave her a bright smile. "Of course I am. I'm with you and we're going to be reunited with my grandson and my husband; my family will be together. And that's the way it should be…forever."

There was still something about the way she said things that piqued Emma's interest but right then all she could focus on was remaining upright and keeping on the path towards the apartment.

* * *

Reaching the outer limits of the woods, Emma released a loose sigh as the town's streets came into view. Her energy was starting to settle and she found it much easier to keep an even pace but that tiredness was not going to disappear any time soon. "Who would have thought that magic would be so exhausting?"

Mary Margaret smiled softly. "Don't worry, Emma. You're only tired because you're not used to exerting that much force. Once you get a handle on things, you won't even feel the effects of it."

"Woah, hold up. Get a handle on things? Who said I was going to get a handle on things?" Yes it seemed that there existed some form of magic inside of her…somewhere, but as far as Emma was concerned, wherever it was, it was going to stay there. She had no need for magic, no desire to shoot lightning bolts from her palms. Besides, magic always came with a price and she didn't want to find out ones she'd have to pay.

"Emma, magic is a part of you. Now I don't really know how or why but you have something special inside of you; something only a select few possess." Funnily enough, Emma hadn't pictured her mother as pro-magic, especially when her daughter was concerned, so her reply only served to confuse her.

"What are you talking about? Rumple, Regina, Cora – they all have magic. I don't really see magic as something unique anymore."

Mary Margaret tightened her hold ever so slightly, her free hand latching on to one of Emma's. "Oh but in your case it is. Both Regina and Cora had to learn how to use magic. They had to practice and learn different spells and incantations whereas you already possess it. You don't need spell books or colourful potions; you are already powerful. What you have cannot be taught; it comes from within."

"You sound like a Lifetime Original Movie," Emma scoffed, anxiety creeping its way into her voice. The idea of some purple gunk nesting inside her waiting to be released made her stomach churn and to hear that she was possibly more potent than Regina and Cora just heightened the stakes. Would she be able to control it? What if her dreams to leave it settle and ignore it never come to fruition? It was a lot to take in. Too much.

"Emma-"

"Look," she pointed ahead to the block where their apartment was located. "Home, sweet home."

The brunette's expression broke out into pure joy as she began striding with purpose and excitement and Emma couldn't help but be infected by her radiance.

They were going to see their family and magic and all that came with it would be pushed aside for a while.

* * *

They raced up the stairs, their feet barely touching the beaten wood as they propelled themselves forward. Ignoring any object in their way they reached the front door and both stopped abruptly to gather their breath. There were so many emotions running through Snow's mind that it was hard to decipher exactly how she was feeling. She was nervous, anxious, excited, jittery; but most of all, she was really happy. It was kind of like opening the door to a first date and experiencing all that came with that monumental moment.

But of course, she wasn't on a date and she wasn't meeting Charming for the first time. Nope, she was just going to reunite with her husband. The time had come for them to move on with their lives and figure out what their roles were in Storybrooke as Snow and Charming, and as parents. The future would no doubt be demanding and bewildering, but it was also something to look forward to.

She wondered what Charming would be wearing. It was silly but out of everything, she was curious as to what he was wearing. Would it be a simple t-shirt and jeans or would he opt for a more formal look of a tight-fitting shirt? She supposed that her preoccupation with her husband's attire was more to do with being separated from him and his presence than just plain, old fashion.

Brushing the intricacies of the door with the tips of her fingertips, she drew in a breath and looked to her daughter. "You ready?" she posed, drinking in her expression that appeared to be a finely balanced mixture of hyped enthusiasm and about-to-fall-over-in-sheer-exhaustion.

"Let's do this."

Turning her hand into a fist, she knocked on the door three times and waited.

After what felt like eternal seconds, Snow could hear shuffling from beyond the barrier and her heart quickened. "Coming!" a voice rang and it took almost everything Snow had not to kick down the door and embrace David. He was really there; the time had finally come. Emma, who probably noticed the brunette's twitchy manner, took her hand briefly and gave it a soft squeeze, letting her know that she was there for her. As if her heart couldn't swell or quicken anymore.

Then the click came. Snow held her breath. Emma's frame became like stone.

The door swung open and there in its gap stood the sandy-haired, ridiculously handsome love of her life.

He didn't want to answer the door. He was too caught up in figuring out a plan to get Emma and Snow home, too lost in his own thoughts to pull himself away from the desk he had made his home since they had gone. Everything he had been doing was for the greater good of his family and luckily for him, Henry was just as determined as he was in his mission and was only happy to help in any way he would let him; be it by finding out information or simply doing chores when asked.

"Coming!" he yelled, putting down the pen he had been clenching for the best part of three hours. Reluctantly, he sauntered over to the door, yanking on the handle with impatience and using his right hand to lean against the door frame.

"Charming!"

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, his pulse electrified. His head shot up to see the two women that he had spent every waking moment searching for. Snow and Emma. His wife and daughter.

There were no words to describe what he felt in that instance. Before he could fully grasp what was happening, his wife was crashing into him, enveloping him in an all-consuming hug. Instantly he wrapped his arms around her and held her as close as possible, relishing the familiarity of the warmth of her body against his and feeling the softness of her hair as it brushed across his cheek. He ran his hands up and down her back as if reminding himself that it was real, that he wasn't dreaming and pulled away just enough to press his forehead to hers. "Snow," he breathed with heavy emotion. "You're really here." Angling his head ever so slightly he kissed her – gently at first but then with more passion as she responded, tangling her fingers in his short hair and it was then that he fully let go and surrendered to the extent of which he had so dearly missed his wife.

"Where else would I be?" Snow replied with a smirk, pressing her lips to his again and lightly following the scar on his chin with her thumb.

"Mom!"

David didn't have to move much to see where his grandson was coming from because he was over to Emma and in her arms in no time. It lifted his heart to see just how much Emma had grown as a mother in the relatively short time he had kind of known her and as she lifted the boy into the air and back down again – tears escaping her eyes – his heart was filled with pride and joy.

"I missed you so much," he whispered to his wife, drinking in her beauty.

"I missed you more."

"But how…? When…? What happened?" he asked, still completely stunned by the past couple of minutes. He had spent weeks trying to find portals or people that could lead him to portals only to come up short and left more desperate than before. Every moment he had was thrown into the search. And as each day passed, his desperation increased to dangerously high levels and he started to doubt and lose faith in the one thing he was always sure of: true love. But now as his arms were still clinging onto Snow for dear life and his daughter was embracing her son, he realised that he should never doubt in something that was more powerful than anyone could have ever imagined possible.

"Well…" Snow teased, breaking out of his hold and jerking Henry into her open arms, giving him a quick kiss on top of his head. "It's a bit of long story that we will tell you about-"

"Just as soon as we shower and change our clothes!" Emma interrupted.

* * *

Seeing Henry after all the time that had passed was indescribable. Holding him in her arms, his wrung around her neck, was a moment she would cherish forever. It was the little things - like how he voluntarily tightened his hug when she told him she missed him _so _much, or the way he smiled when pushed the hair out of his eyes, or even when he called her mom – that, until that moment, Emma had seemingly taken for granted but now held a new form of significance, and she felt all of the emotion she had bottled up well within her and pour out like water from a tap. She didn't care if anybody noticed; she was crying because she was so happy to have her son back in her life. Being away from Henry was torture in itself and everything that she did – they did – was linked in with finding a way back to him. All roads led back to her family.

* * *

Mary Margaret was kind enough to allow Emma first shot at the shower and the blonde didn't think twice about taking the opportunity. In record time she had bolted up the stairs, literally grabbed the first set of clean clothes she could find and escaped to the bathroom. The water's heat stung her skin into a dusty pink and Emma stood there, letting it tumble down and wash her thoroughly. It was like a cleansing ritual; like the water was removing every scrape, scar, wound, dark memory of her time in the Enchanted Forest, and sucking them down the drain to a place where they couldn't hurt her anymore. As she plied her hair with shampoo that smelt like strawberries, Emma realised that she hadn't really had any kind of reunion with her father. They had locked gazes and exchanged warm greetings but Emma needed to properly reunite with him. Of course that was difficult enough with David and Mary Margaret being practically sown together at the hip.

Though she didn't know David as well or as closely as her mother, he was still her father and getting to know him was a top priority for her.

Turning off the water and stepping out of the shower onto the chilly tiled floor, Emma dried herself down with some formerly white bath towels. Holding the cloth to the light she could see that the towel was now a light pink rather than the brilliant white it used to be. She couldn't help but smile at the colour change noting that the two boys needed a lesson in the art form of laundry.

She threw on an old pair of navy sweats and a red tank top, tamed her tangled hair with a brush and tossed the towel over her shoulder before joining her mother and father in the living area. Being in new clothes was like a religious experience; Emma was completely rejuvenated. Almost like a new person. She'd be happy if she never saw that burgundy leather jacket ever again.

"Shower's free," she remarked to Mary Margaret who was snuggled in close to her husband.

"Thank God!" the woman exclaimed, hopping up from her position, hugging Emma swiftly and dancing lithely out of the room. All Emma could do was chuckle at her mother as melodic notes rose into the air combining with the noise of running water. Now that she thought of it, Emma hadn't heard Mary Margaret sing before.

She averted her gaze from the floor to meet that of her father who gave her a sweet smile as their eyes met. Now it was her time to say something. "You need to separate the colours from the whites," she said, lobbing the dyed towel to the man. Of all the things she could have said, that was what she went with. Really? She could have smacked herself at her own stupidity.

"Yeah, that was a lesson that I had to learn the hard way," David responded, folding the damp cloth neatly on his lap. "I don't think Henry was too impressed with me turning his socks and underwear pink." He let out a…well, a charming laugh. "It's kind of ridiculous actually; Prince Charming can't do laundry. I bet that wasn't a story you heard growing up."

"Well in fairness there weren't any washing machines in the forest," Emma pointed out with a smirk, taking a seat next to him. David stiffened slightly at their close proximity.

"Very true." He fell quiet briefly and rubbed his hands together. A nervous tick, Emma surmised. "I'm so glad that you're okay; that you're back home, where you belong. Where we all belong. Together as a family." Whatever it was in his voice, be it sincerity or affection, Emma was overcome with emotion and did something she thought would take her much longer to do. She leaned over and hugged her father. And it wasn't some half-hearted pat on the back, limp hug, but a full-blown, two-armed, tight embrace and David needed absolutely no time to react because he was already pulling her closer into his hold. "Oh, Emma, I missed you. I missed you so much."

Her voice a little shaky, she replied rather quickly. "I missed you, too."

**I hope you guys didn't mind me giving a small part of this chapter from David's point of view; I just wanted to try it out! So what did you all think? Not fluffy enough or too fluffy? How was the reunion, did you all expect more? Less? I really hope you liked what you read :D Please review and let me know what you thought!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey there! I just wanted to let you all know that I really, truly appreciate each and every one of you who follows or favourites or reviews because it's such great motivation and makes me enjoy writing this story even more! So thank you all! :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

The clatter of cutlery awakened Emma who, at some point, must have fallen asleep on the couch though she had zero recollection of even contemplating the idea of sleep. She brought her hands up to her face to cover her eyes from the dazzling light of the room and let out a mumbled groan. Her head was spinning as if she hadn't slept at all and her chest ached terribly like there was some dead weight pressing on it.

"Emma?" The blonde heard her mother's voice from across the room, quickly noting the relief in her tone. Footsteps got louder as the woman obviously got closer but Emma wasn't ready to remove her shield for the moment; the light would only make her even woozier than she already was. "Look at me, are you okay?"

That order was hard to ignore. There was nothing she could do but comply; Mary Margaret was dangerously close to physically removing her hands from her face. She didn't need to see her to know that that was the next course of action.

Reluctantly she brought her hands down and laid them across her abdomen, exhaling slowly. "Hey," she said groggily despite interjecting her best smile.

"Are you okay?" The brunette crinkled her forehead and her green eyes were nothing but glasses of concern. With one hand she grabbed onto one of Emma's wrists, forcing her look directly at her while using her other to cradle the side of her daughter's face.

"Yeah, I think so. I mean I'm still a little tired but I'm sure I'll be okay in a few minutes." The woman had no idea why her mother appeared so apprehensive or why her father was hovering around them both like he was anticipating being called in for some kind of armed duty.

Emma's nonchalance seemed to confuse Mary Margaret. Leaning in over her, she placed the back of her hand onto Emma's forehead testing its temperature. "You don't remember what happened?"

What was she talking about? "Remember what?"

David moved behind her mother's frame, putting his hands on his wife's shoulders, moving them up and down her arms. "You passed out when Snow was in the shower." He sounded upset but it was obvious that he was using every ounce of strength he had to hold it all in - for her sake, no doubt - and Emma was more than grateful for that, but she honestly had no clue about anything they were talking about. Her vision was swimming and sounds were muffled but she assumed another hour of slumber would probably sort that right out.

"I did?" Beginning to question herself and panic at the memory loss, she struggled upright, latching onto a pillow and wrenching it against her chest to keep her heart in place. It felt as though it would explode at any given moment. Although, what a fluffy green pillow would do she wasn't sure but she felt better knowing it was there. "But we were talking right here?" she directed to her father who had taken a seat at the edge of the coffee table facing her. The pain in her chest intensified with each passing second and with each meeting of her mother's stare.

"We were," he confirmed, "and then you said something about going to get a glass of water. But as soon as you got to your feet you crumpled onto the floor…and didn't get back up. It all happened so fast; I didn't know what to do. You were just on the ground, not moving, and my first instinct was to pick you up into my arms, call your mother and make sure you were still breathing." His voice cracked as he finished and Emma shifted uncomfortably under the sudden change in atmosphere in the once euphoric apartment. What was earlier a place of overjoy was now a place drowning in a sea of worry.

"You came around not even a minute later but it was the longest minute of our lives, Emma," Mary Margaret added, rubbing circles around Emma's knuckles. "You said you just needed to sleep and that'd you'd be fine once you rested. I didn't have time to argue before you dozed off. I can't even count the times I checked to see if your heart was still…there." She shuddered away a thought and held onto the blonde tighter as if that would scare away the demons. Though, Emma automatically knew what Mary Margaret was shaking off – Cora.

"23," David clarified with a humourless laugh. Mary Margaret gaped at him with wide eyes. "I was watching you; and I was checking, too."

"I don't remember any of that," the blonde confessed, pressing a hand to her heart in an attempt to dull the throb.

"I warned you that magic would take a lot out of you and that taking things easy was the only solution but you insisted that you would be fine; but Emma, you need to rest. It's imperative that you rebuild your strength, otherwise your body won't be able to function normally."

Emma's gaze flashed to David whose grin was slowly creeping towards his eyes. "You heard?" she asked referring to her magical powers. Huh; she sounded like a witch.

"Your mother filled me in on everything- the battle with Cora, you saving Snow and your friends, and you using your power to get back home to us. And I couldn't be more proud of you, Emma. I always had complete faith that you would be nothing short of brilliant from the moment I held you in my arms." He meant each and every word that left his mouth and lingered in the air.

What could she say back to that? Receiving compliments wasn't something she was too good at. Probably because she never really got them. If anything, her praises being sung made her awkward and uncomfortable; she didn't feel like anything special and yet she was that and so much more in the eyes of her parents. Which was just…crazy. They hardly knew her but they believed in her and in what she could achieve.

Suddenly, a sharp pain erupted from her heart and Emma jerked forward, her long blonde hair billowing forward and covering her face and in doing so, hiding the agony she was in. A starving whimper escaped her lips and Emma clenched her teeth together so that no more followed that lead.

Her parents jumped to their feet immediately, their concern personified by their trembling hands as they reached for the blonde to offer any comfort they could. "Emma! Emma, what's wrong?" her mother yelped in distress.

There was nothing they could do; at least nothing Emma was aware of. It's not like she could take an asprin or sleep it off. "Nothing," she responded when the pain had subsided to a more tolerable ache. "Nothing, it's okay. My heart's just a little tender from my little encounter with Cora; it'll be fine." She didn't want to make a big deal out of it because doing that only confirmed that it _was_ a big deal. An evil woman had had her hand around her heart and tried ever so hard to rip it from her chest – yeah, that was just too weird and terrifying to even think about it. Emma even had a nightmare about it earlier - most likely after her passing out/waking up moment - and she couldn't see them dying down any time soon. But she'd never tell her parents that. Especially not Mary Margaret; she had enough on her plate what with Emma passing out and having a heart that enjoyed randomly testing her pain limitations. There was no need to add to her already mounting stress.

"You can't just say that what just happened was nothing," her mother snapped with irritation and fear. "That is a serious problem that we have to solve."

"I don't think it can be solved. I think it's something I have to just ride out until eventually the pain just goes away. It doesn't hurt all the time; just at particular moments."

"Emma," her mother started as sternly as she could, narrowing her glare which was way more intimidating than she probably expected it to be. Emma cowered into the sofa, breaking the lock.

"Look, I admit it hurts but only sometimes, okay?" She had to appease; the worried glances between man and wife were becoming more and more frequent. "I mean, it takes a while to get over trauma like that so please don't make a big deal out of it. I just want a glass of water and catch up on some sleep. I didn't really get much of that in the forest. You know how it is, ogres and such." She felt like a child who had to defend everything they did. Sat on the couch with the pillow nestling just below her neck, Emma realised what it was finally like to have parents who double-checked every detail and picked up on subtle nuances and phrases – it was like they could see right through her into her soul. Creepy in one way but having people that actually cared was so comforting. More so than she ever imagined.

"I'll get you a drink," David offered, getting off the coffee table. He stood before her wearing a conflicted expression: raised eyebrow, wrinkled forehead, quirked corner of lip. She had the same expression. Making a silent decision, he reached over and gently placed a tentative hand on top of her head much like when they reunited the very first time in the middle of the street. But though there was still a beautiful timidity, he seemed more sure of the movement. Like he knew that she wouldn't shy away from the gesture and that spurred a new bravery within him. That much was noticeable in the way he held himself – so self-assured, so confident, so regal. Emma smiled at the action.

He traced his hand from the crown of her head down the side of her face, finishing at her chin and flashed a tender grin before leaving for the kitchen.

Not one for basking in the moment, Mary Margaret leaned hurriedly towards the blonde. "Don't you ever scare us like that again, do you understand? You have absolutely no idea what was going through my mind when I laid my eyes on you; I thought _my _heart was about to explode. Next time you feel weak or sick or your heart hurts tell us," she whispered heatedly, her two hands cupping Emma's angled elbows. She could see the tears burning the back of her eyes but Emma knew those weren't tears of frustration or anger but tears of love and that knowledge was so poignant that she believed she'd fall into big blubbering mess right in front of her own mother.

"I promise I'll try."

David returned and set down the glass on the table. Sensing he was in the way, he left for the stairs, calling Henry's name.

"I guess that's all I can ask for," Mary Margaret snickered. "Now, you should get some sleep. Here," she removed the pillow from Emma's grasp and planted it at the end of the couch, "lie down there and I'll fetch your baby blanket."

"I'm big enough to sleep in my own room, aren't I?" Emma joked, doing exactly what the brunette suggested in the process.

"Of course but I need to keep an eye on you and what better place than down here? Next to the kitchen, dining area and my bedroom?" She ambled over to a chest of drawers in her room, opened the middle drawer and retrieved the blanket that Emma had kept through every good and bad situation in her life. That blanket was a symbol of hope; a sign that someone, somewhere had loved her at one point. That was all the motivation she ever needed when times got too tough to handle…which was a lot of the time.

Too tried to conjure up a snarky come-back, Emma willingly closed her eyes and breathed in and out slowly as Mary Margaret laid the blanket over the top of her frame and pressed a quick kiss on her head.

She must have been feeling daring.

* * *

Snow was anxious. She sat by the counter in the kitchen and watched as David prepared one of his famous hot chocolates – he was the best at making them. He was the one who started the trend and the only one who could make the perfect cup. To him, hot chocolate was an art form that had to be perfected. He loved to take his time and experiment with new methods and Snow loved to watch him work; his fluid movement around the kitchen and ease with which he prepared one steaming mug was something to be admired. Plus, he was easy on the eyes which greatly added to her enjoyment.

But Charming hated cinnamon. Snow could never understand that…

Yet this time was different. Snow couldn't relax or settle for any length of time; her eyes keep darting over to her daughter who lay so peacefully on the couch and who, even if only for a moment, was escaping the pain and weariness that plagued her. Snow knew she'd be okay – no, there wasn't a slither of doubt in her mind about that, but that didn't stop her imagination running away and conjuring up more and more horrible visions of what the blonde was going through. Emma was tough, and masked every single emotion that threatened to breach security. However, Snow was her mom and that meant she was qualified in all things Emma-related. And of course being her best friend first gave her a slight advantage; the upper hand. The blonde couldn't hide forever; eventually she'd have to face it all.

And when she was ready, Snow would be there. Always. Hand in hand.

"You're doing it again," David commented with an amused sigh as he stirred her beverage slowly.

The brunette snapped around in the chair. "Doing what?" she probed sheepishly.

"You know what. You've been checking over there every time you think I'm not looking. Snow, she's going to be okay. She's…she's Emma." He stopped and slid the cup over to his wife, his hand lingering on the handle. "_And_, she's just as stubborn as we are so there's no way she's letting this slow her down."

"She went through something extremely traumatic and now has to live through the pain that that will leave on her, not to mention the readjustment she'll have to do when it comes to her magical ability. It's not like she, or we, for that matter, can avoid and pretend it isn't there." She was getting riled up with anxiety now; the stress becoming far too overwhelming for her first day back home.

Charming scuttled around to Snow and held her frame in his arms to calm her down. His heart thumping rhythmically, she started to feel her breathing steady and her adrenaline wane and she was thankful that her husband was so easily able to meet her needs even when she didn't recognise them herself. He was always perceptive like that. She circled his waist and clasped her hands together, never wanting to break away from his warm body. Everything made so much more sense in that position. "You're right; we can't ignore it. But I don't think it's going to a problem. I have no doubt that the change will be scary and daunting, but Emma will find a way through it and we'll be there each step of the way. We just have to take each day as it comes and be grateful for the opportunity we have to face it all together as a family."

His words could quiet even the most tumultuous of souls and his passion and sincerity were unmatched and unseen in this world. No one else could make her see the light at the end of the tunnel like he could. His vision was so pure, so clear-cut and so attainable.

Snow's vision, on the other hand, was a bit more muddled. "But what about Regina? I mean, we came through the portal today and still nobody else knows we're home yet. I can't imagine she'd be too thrilled when she finds out that we're back in her life again."

"Actually, I don't think she'll be a problem." Snow angled her neck so as to see his face. Charming continued. "She promised Henry that she was going to be better; to do better. No magic, no meddling. Henry can stay here with us as long as they can organise set times to see each other and I've got to say…she's really trying. I mean, I didn't believe that she'd keep the promise but I think she really wants to change and be a better mother to the boy. I wouldn't believe it myself if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes."

Regina without magic? That didn't sound like the Regina she knew.

"But what-"

David cut her off with a sweet peck on the lips. "Not now, Snow. You need to sleep; you've had an eventful day, too. Don't worry; I'll make sure we take turns checking up on her. Besides we'll all need our energy for tomorrow." He broke away from her but kept one of her hands in his.

"What's tomorrow?"

Charming beamed widely. "Tomorrow we decorate the apartment for Christmas."

"Were we gone _that _long?"

He kissed her with more passion this time. "Yeah, you were," he whispered.

"Sorry," Snow remarked with a soft chuckle, "we were a little busy."

He took her face in his hands and pressed his forehead to hers. "I'll let you say goodnight." He swiftly kissed her cheek and strode out of the area toward the bedroom.

She tiptoed over to her daughter's sleeping figure and fixed the end of the blanket so that it covered the small of her back. "Goodnight, Emma," she said before kissing her forehead…and inspecting her breathing pattern. Happy with what she found, she turned off the lamp and headed straight to bed hoping that the nightmares would stay away.

**I really hope you all enjoyed this one! I have a few ideas of where I would like to take the story if you guys aren't bored with it yet and still want to read more, so please do let me know what you would all like! Has it become boring? Should I have ended it after they returned home? These are the questions I ask myself all the time! Haha anyway, I sincerely do hope you liked this chapter and I look forward to hearing what you all thought! :)**


	13. Chapter 13

**I was blown away by the response the last chapter received and I want to thank everyone who took the time to read, review, follow and favourite because it's so nice to know that you all still like the story! I hope I can still keep it interesting for you! :)**

**Alas, I don't own OUAT.**

The bright light of the morning seeped through the blinds and illuminated the room. Snow didn't want to move just yet; the cocoon of her covers too warm and too perfect to break. She extended an arm over to the other side of the bed to find it empty and in confusion, she managed to haul herself out of the stronghold and arch her back upright to scan her bedroom for her missing husband. She had endured too many nights of not sleeping next to him to miss out on them now.

"David?" she called. No answer.

Groaning and mumbling to herself, the brunette grudgingly threw off her blankets and stepped out of the bed, fixing her top as it exposed the side of her hip to the cold. As she passed by the mirror next to her locker, she paused to examine her frame and what she saw didn't sit well with her. Her raven hair had decided to sprout up in inexplicable areas, her eyes were bloodshot and dreary like she hadn't rested them all her life, and her skin was paler than…well, snow. Hoping to somehow revitalise her appearance, she smacked her cheeks lightly and pulled them back and forth.

"What on earth are you doing?" Snow hadn't heard the whoosh of the curtain drawing back nor the entrance of her daughter. From the reflection in the mirror, the blonde looked much better than yesterday, and much to Snow's delight, the colour had returned to her cheeks giving her a healthier complexion. Needless to say her daughter looked better than she did.

"Oh, I…I was just, you know, trying to wake myself up."

Emma slinked under the drape and further into the room to stand beside the woman. "Haven't you had enough of mirrors?" she asked incredulously.

Snow straightened, realising she was inches from the glass. "Yeah," she affirmed starkly, "I am." Grabbing a loose blanket near to her, Snow flung the fabric over the mirror and twirled so as to have her back to it. "No more mirrors," she said, her voice barely audible.

"Good," Emma nodded with a warm smile. "Nice hair, by the way," she added, trying to hold back a snigger.

The woman narrowed her stare. "Shut up," she said with such seriousness that Emma could no longer contain the laughter that threatened to spill out of her, but to her pleasant surprise it didn't take long for the brunette to join in. It was so nice to share such a light, happy moment with her daughter considering that the majority of time they had spent together mainly consisted of trying to save each other's lives and making it back home so they could start anew. Now, things were starting to look brighter for the future. "How are you feeling?" Snow contributed softly after the giggles had died down, pressing down the stray tufts of hair in self-consciousness.

The blonde crossed her arms and offered an unassuming shrug. "I'm getting there. I actually slept last night - which is pretty miraculous, and my heart's, well, it's still there so I guess that's a good sign." She unconsciously moved a free hand to her heart as if protecting it.

Snow could tell Emma was still wary of her heart and the pain that she had been experiencing and in all honesty, Snow didn't know anything about the after effects of a heart being ripped out – or _not _being ripped out as the case may be and felt completely helpless in the situation. She didn't know what to do to make everything better, to make everything okay. And that hurt. Not being able to help her child was more excruciating than she ever thought it would be. All she could do was repeat reassurances and hope and pray that Emma believed them and that they would prove true.

Utilising her motherly instinct, Snow closed the gap between them and lightly placed her hand over that of her daughter's. "Of course it is; you are going to be fine. Trust me, I know these things."

"Yeah? How do you know?"

The brunette's eyes widened whimsically. "Because you, Emma Swan, don't let anything stop you from living your life the way you want to. You're a fighter, and you're _stubborn_, and you know how to take care of yourself. You're going to be back to yourself in no time."

_You know how to take care of yourself. _She gazed into her daughter's eyes and felt that pang of hurt and sorrow that accompanied the realisation that Emma did not need her the way other daughters needed their mothers. She hated that feeling but she understood that having her daughter now was unbelievably better than never having her at all, and she was going to make the most out of it for the rest of her life. She removed her hand and took a step back, not wanting to invade too much of Emma's personal space; she was aware that a step too far could lead to a full lockdown.

"Where's David and Henry?" she inquired curiously, knitting her eyebrows together and remembering why she was out of the warm safety of her bed.

Emma laughed once, relaxing her pose and plopping down onto the corner of the bed. "Henry woke me to inform me that he and David were going to get a Christmas tree for the apartment. Apparently the fake one you have isn't going to make the cut this year."

"There's nothing wrong with my little tree!" Snow retorted. She had that artificial tree for…as long as she could remember – twenty-eight years, she assumed – and it had been a perfectly fine addition to her home during the holiday season…whenever that came around. With the curse and frozen time, pinpointing out times of the year was a difficult task. Snow couldn't even remember a Christmas in Storybrooke without it being a little hazy, a little jaded. Fabricated memories, no doubt.

"Woah, easy there. Don't shoot the messenger!" Emma defended, raising her hands in the air as a joke. "Besides, I think the kid wants to assume his role as a man of the house. I guess fetching a Christmas tree falls neatly into that category."

"Not to mention the fact that those two are pretty much inseparable now so whatever David does, Henry's not too far behind. It's really sweet, actually. I suppose when you look at it in a weird, twisted way, our going away has done some kind of good; particularly when it comes to the men in our family."

"And the women, too," Emma added without a beat. All too quickly did she realise what she had let slip out. "Well, you know, we worked well together as a team," she rationalized whilst toying with the end of her white tank top.

The fact that Emma's justification had nothing to do with their obvious strengthening bond rocked Snow more than she thought, but instead of letting it be and settle in the air, she felt the need to say what was on her mind. Just for once. "And we got to spend some quality time together – albeit a stressful time but I think – no, I know – that we've gotten closer. That we've started to become a family. So maybe when we look back on our time there we can remember that all of the bad experiences led to a place where we could finally mark the beginning of the life we've always wanted." She could have added more and turn the moment into something much more heartfelt but she didn't want to take it there. Now wasn't the time. "So how about some breakfast? I can whip you up something if you like?" she offered, changing the subject.

"No, no, I'm good."

"You're going to pass up on my speciality? Really?" she questioned dramatically. Snow knew exactly how to tempt the blonde.

"You mean chunky chocolate nut flapjacks? With extra…?" Emma's striking eyes glistened as she pounced up from the bed.

"Chocolate? The very ones."

"Now that you mention it, I am a bit peckish."

"I was hoping you'd say that," Snow said, a loving beam breaking out on her face. "Come on."

She didn't have to tell Emma twice.

* * *

"Woah, easy there, Henry! I need you to be my eyes so you gotta stop running ahead of me!" David panted as he struggled with the six-foot-tall Christmas tree the boy insisted on buying for their quaint home. David was strong but it was the first time he ever had to lug something of this size up some flights of stairs and the exertion was taking its toll. He was lucky he was able to climb the stairs with the evergreen blocking his view.

"Sorry," Henry excitedly replied. "I just can't wait to see their faces when they see the tree we picked."

At that David had to chuckle. Ever since Snow and Emma had returned, Henry had been trying to prove himself as a 'Charming'…if that was even a thing. Apparently being a 'Charming' consisted of taking charge of all of the household duties and of course, looking after the Charming women. It brought a smile to the man's face whenever he thought of how close he and Henry had become through an extremely difficult time and he was thankful every day for the chance to get to know his grandson. Plus, it was always nice to have another man around the house.

Though he couldn't say he was too thrilled with the latest decoration to the apartment as the muscles in his arms burned like they were on the verge of exploding. His face red, he moved his head to the left to get a clear view of the kid. "Okay, buddy, can you open the door for me please?" He hoped he didn't look as strained as his voice sounded.

"You got it, Gramps."

Happy with his duty, Henry put the key in the lock and turned the doorknob, opening the door. "Mom! Snow! We're back!" His exuberance was infectious and David found himself pounding his feet onto the steps faster to make it to the top of the flight. With a last ditch attempt at focusing all of his energy, he spurt through the open door, losing his balance at the last hurdle and falling flat onto the hardwood floor bringing down the tree with him with an almighty thud.

The few seconds that followed his little accident were silent as if everyone was collecting their breath. It was Emma who broke the curse – as usual. "Are you okay?" she asked, whilst chuckling lowly, as David had remained glued to the floor, showered in pine needles.

"Never better," he groaned and within no time, his ever faithful wife was by his side helping him back onto his feet. Her touch was soft and gentle; familiar. The slightest of touches from her electrified his veins – she had always had that effect on him, and he knew everything about Snow, inside and out. He didn't even have to look at her face to know that inside she was giggling like a young schoolgirl and there was no way he was going to give his daughter or grandson the satisfaction of seeing him embarrassed at his little mishap. So, he threw back his shoulders, brushed off the loose needles off his clothes and straightened his face. "It was heavy," he simply stated, keeping his back turned to them as he wrapped his arms underneath the tree and readied himself for the weight he was about to haul upwards.

"No, wait, let us help you," Emma proposed, immediately at the top of it, her hands searching for the best place to lift from.

"I appreciate the offer, Emma, but I have it; it's okay."

"No, I'm going to help." She was persistent.

David sighed. "Emma, please…"

"We'll all help," Snow interjected chirpily as if she was dying in anticipation for something the whole family could do together. All David aimed to do was bring the Christmas tree home for his family and he couldn't even manage that. Not so much Prince Charming in this world was he? "Won't we?"

"Yeah, definitely!" Henry exclaimed buoyantly, practically jumping at the chance to assert his status as a man.

There was no point in arguing or defending his stance; David was fully aware that he'd be fighting a losing battle. "Okay," he relented, "Henry you go join your mom at the top and Snow, honey, you take the right-hand side."

The four of them manned their positions and on the count of three raised the shrub off the floor into a somewhat stable upright station. David took a step backward to examine their work. Enclosing his mouth between his pointer finger and thumb, he cocked his head to the right and then to the left, his eyes squinted in deep concentration.

"Well…?" Emma asked when he hadn't spoken after a few moments. "Are we going to move it into the corner or not?"

"Why would you want to put such a beautiful tree in a dark corner where its potential will be hidden?"

"Potential? It's a tree!" The blonde cried incredulously. "We can't just leave it in the middle of the room!"

David smirked at his daughter's resolve, a part of him enjoying the fact that she was getting riled up so easily. She was so much like her mother – and him, too, he noted with a gleam in his eye. "Why not?"

"Because…well, because…" Ah, so sometimes Emma could be rendered speechless. Good to know. The Prince exchanged a wry glance with his wife who was clearly finding this little discussion rather amusing. Hair off her face, hands on hips, a mischievous grin creeping to the surface. It was official; Snow White was the most alluring person he had ever laid eyes on. And she was his. Forever. "Because it's not normal; people don't leave a six-foot tall bush standing in the centre of their home. It's just in the way and…distracting."

The tone of Emma's voice reminded David of how a teenager would talk or complain about whatever embarrassing thing their parents had decided to do that particular day and he couldn't help but be happy that he could experience a moment like that despite his daughter being older than a teen. "Emma, take a look around you. What part of this family looks normal to you?" he laughed. "We're the same age; our grandson is ten years old. We're not a normal family and we never will be. And I for one love that we're different." He moved over and tenderly laid his hands on the woman's shoulders. "I don't want to be like everyone else. Why would anybody want to be like anybody else? That's just boring."

Emma seemed to ponder his little speech quietly before raising her eyebrow. "All that because the tree is heavy and you didn't want to move it, huh?"

Stubborn and perceptive – a deadly combination. "I guess you caught me. But I did mean what I said."

"I like it there," Henry chimed with his usual sunny disposition.

"Me, too," Snow agreed, circling the boy with her arms.

"Then its settled; three against one. The tree stays put." David crossed his arms in victory.

"Whatever," Emma said trying to sound bothered but failing enormously. She seemed quite content with the decision.

"Now," David clapped and rubbed his hands together, "time to start decorating."

* * *

The room filled with melodic sounds of the classic Christmas songs and carols Emma had known her whole life as they all gathered around the festive addition to their home. Box after box of decorations were hung on the branches – some flung on in the hope that they would hold – and lights were being untangled and then thrown around the tree in some kind of strange pattern. Emma didn't do stuff like this; stuff like this irritated her to the point where she couldn't stand the thought of it. She hadn't decorated a Christmas tree since she was about eight-years-old and she lived with a really nice foster family for about two years. They loved the holiday season and were exceedingly jolly at that time of year. There was eggnog, Christmas cookies and cupcakes, a fire lighting and some favourite movie on in the background. It was exactly what Emma imagined a perfect Christmas looked like and though that time was her favourite time of the year, she always felt like something was missing. Like she was an intruder in a personal time for the family – she didn't feel like a part of that family. It was thoughts like that that ruined her love of the season and so, when she got older, she didn't feel the need to participate in any of the celebratory rituals. She didn't see the point; it was for families and she didn't have one.

Until now.

Now, she couldn't wipe the smile off her face as Henry skipped around the place, ecstatic to be doing absolutely anything. The smile on his face was enough to keep hers plastered in place. Mary Margaret and David looked so at ease with one another, like they had never been separated in the first place as they iced the cake they made together. Yes it was all very commercial and the usual eye-roll from Emma was appropriate but she realised she didn't care. This felt right.

"Okay I think I've finally finished the lights," Emma alerted her parents who were eating more icing than using it. She studied her job and made a few more adjustments by the time Mary Margaret had drawn near to her. Putting lights on the tree was a whole new world to Emma and she was pretty sure she'd made an absolute mess of them. Not to mention that the task itself was highlighting how tired she was. Was she ever going to feel awake again?

"Right, are we all ready?" David asked, his hand hovering over the light switch. Each one of them nodded, with Henry's being the most excited. "Here we go."

It was amazing how uplifting a few lights lobbed around a tree could make someone. There was just something so magical about that moment when they turn on and create this glowing hue around the room. It almost makes everything feel safe; like no matter what darkness threatens, the lights will protect, guard. It was just so comforting.

Emma swallowed, getting emotional. She felt Mary Margaret take her hand and intertwine their fingers. She must have felt it, too. They were home.

"Wow, it's beautiful," the blonde remarked.

"Good job, Mom," Henry smiled. She reached over and slinked her arm around his far shoulder and pulled him to her side.

"Thanks, kid."

**Okay so I wanted this chapter to be a little more fluffy and a little more thoughtful so I hope you guys liked that! Don't worry, there will be some form of plot forming from the start of the next chapter but I don't think I'm going to abandon the fluff anytime soon; but I can't promise that there won't be angst…because I just love writing angst! Haha anywho I really do hope you all liked it and please, please review and let me know what you thought :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**Happy Holidays everyone! Thank you all for helping me reach over 200 reviews which is just so awesome! Reviews make me so happy! Haha anyway, I wanted to get this chapter out before Christmas day here in Ireland and before it gets crazy for the next few days! Hope you like what you read :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

The flames were closing in on either side of her.

There was no escape.

But she had to do something.

The smoke was becoming too much to bear and the limited oxygen supply she was privy to would dissipate in a matter of moments. The sea of orange was ripping through the apartment at warped speed, engulfing everything in its path, and the deafening crackling sound of the ember rang in Emma's brain so loud that she fell to her knees, her hands pressing against her ears, praying for it to stop.

She just wanted it all to go away. She had to get out; the flames had begun licking her bare skin, leaving nothing but searing pain in its wake. Soon they would surround her, leaving no out.

The route to the door was blocked; the stairs, too. The only other option was the window in Mary Margaret's room. It was that or…

Sucking in the last remnants of clean air from the ground, Emma sprung to her feet in desperation and made a break for the window that showed nothing but the serenity and relief of the outdoors. Coughing and spluttering, she managed to avoid any serious contact with the fire as she made it to the window. With every muscle in her body, she yanked and pulled at the frame, begging for it to obey orders. Every second was vital to her survival, underscored firmly as the intensification of the heat reached a whole new level that Emma was sure she wouldn't be able to withstand for much longer. She yelled and cursed and kicked and still the window refused to move. The only thing left to do was break the glass.

Without even looking, Emma jerked her mother's bedside table from its spot, sending all of the objects flying across the room into the mouth of her impending doom, and she struggled to raise the piece of furniture over her head.

Her throat was raw with the smoke and it screamed for pure air and water. Her body was weaker than it had ever been before and Emma knew that she only had one chance to smash through the window, or else that was it for her.

Her teeth gritted, her jaw stoic as stone, she shrieked as she put everything she had left into flinging the table. The sound of the glass shattering sent chills down her spine and the influx of the damp air was the sweetest reprieve. She didn't care how much the fall was going to hurt – nothing could be worse than what she was facing in that moment. Placing one foot on the window pane, she used a hand to gain leverage.

But a cry from behind her stopped her dead in her tracks and turned her blood to ice. "Mom!" the voice yelped.

Henry.

He was still in the apartment. What? How?

"Henry?" she roared over the calamity, fear enveloping her in an all-consuming stranglehold. Without a second thought, she catapulted herself from her only exit into the blaze in search of her son. "Henry! Where are you?"

"I'm over here! I'm over here?"

Where was 'over here'? "Just hang on, kid!" she coughed incessantly, her lungs on the verge of collapse. "Where are Mary Margaret and David?!" Now she was burning; the agony far too real to be imagining.

"Right here." In amongst the black smoke, Emma could vaguely make out two figures in front of her, surrounded by fire.

"Wha-what?! We have to get out of here! Get to the window! The window!" Her desperation was escalating out of her control, and her vision was fading fast. The ability to remain upright had vanished and soon she was lying on the ground, her parents towering over her. "Get Henry!" she cried weakly, hoping that the last thing she ever did on this earth was help her son survive even when she couldn't. He had to have the best chance in life; be it with or without her. "Jump out the window!" But no matter what she screamed, they didn't move an inch.

"No, Emma," Mary Margaret said quietly.

"It's too late," David added just as calmly.

"No! Go!"

"We can't. This is all your fault." Henry's frame swam into her dull view. "You did this to us."

"What? No! I-"

"You've hurt everyone you love, Emma. You vowed never to let that happen; you broke your promise and now we have to pay for it." Her mother's tone was icy and detached. Like it was another person entirely.

"But what did I do? Tell me what I did!"

"Magic of course." Suddenly Regina appeared mere millimetres from her face, somehow commanding the flames to ensnare Emma into a fiery pit. "You let your emotions control you, Miss Swan; and now you have to suffer the consequences." Her grin was as wide as the Chesire Cat's; her cackle wicked and ominous. She abruptly raised her hands into the air, forcing the inferno higher.

This was it. She couldn't breathe; she couldn't feel anything but her skin blister and burn. Her heart was broken. She had destroyed everything she had ever cared about.

"You promised, Emma! You _promised_!" a distant Henry proclaimed.

* * *

Emma jolted into a seating position on the couch, sweat dripping from her brow and running into her eyes, mixing with her tears. She frantically reached all around her, feeling everything in attempt to obtain a grasp on reality. The fluffy cushions, the warm baby blanket she held so dear, the rough texture of the couch; the apartment wasn't on fire. She wasn't being burnt alive. Her family was still safe. _It was just a dream. Just a dream._

She opened her eyes fully and gazed around the room. It was night-time; near dawn, maybe. Her heart was throbbing against her ribs like it was beating against the use of nature. Her hands pounding around her chest hoping to shift it back into place, she heard movement come from her mother and father's bedroom. Throwing off her blanket, she jumped to her feet and began pacing back and forth as quickly as she could, trying to settle her nerves.

She had never been so afraid before; not when she slayed the dragon, or when she fell through the portal to a strange land, or even when she duelled Cora. Nothing compared to the vividness and surrealism of that dream.

"Emma? Are you okay?" Mary Margaret whispered, appearing from behind the curtain that separated their room with David in tow. "We heard a…gasp? And then a whole lot of shuffling…?" The source of the brunette's bewilderment stemmed from sleep deprivation but it was crystal clear to Emma that she was deeply concerned about her. Unconsciously, David draped an arm around his wife's waist and held onto her tightly. To Emma it looked like he was trying to keep the woman in place since he knew that the very first thing she would do would be to enfold the blonde into the securest embrace she could muster. Maybe Emma looked worse than she feared. She figured the tears streaming down her face weren't exactly doing wonders for her appearance.

"I just…I just…" What _had _happened? She had a dream; that was it. "Nightmare," she explained hazily, lifting a shoulder in acknowledgement trying to play it cool.

"That bad, huh?" David asked, eyeing her warily like she was a porcelain doll that would break at the slightest of touches. "Like the red room?"

"Worse." Though Emma hadn't visited the 'red room' and experienced that brand of terror first-hand, she was certain that it had nothing on her imagination. And her parents assumed the same as they simply nodded at her reply.

The blonde could tell that Mary Margaret was itching to console her in any way she could, and it was then that Emma realised that that was what she wanted – and needed. She stopped pacing and headed straight for her parents, tossing an arm around each one and pulling them to her, noting their eagerness to do the same to her. Their warmth and affection was evident in their manners and gestures. They didn't care what ungodly time of the night it was; Emma was what was mattered most to them, and it was obvious that they'd do anything for her.

"Do you want to talk about it? I mean, do you think it would help? Or if you don't, we could just sit here and watch T.V. or whatever you want…?" Though Mary Margaret appeared to be seamlessly assimilating into the role of mother-slash-best friend, there was still the occasional time when she became flustered at trying to be the perfect maternal figure. This was one of those moments. And it being around 5:00 a.m. probably only added to her woes.

"What your mother is so eloquently trying to say is that we're here for you, if you need us to be."

What _did _Emma need? Sleep was the first thing that popped into her mind, but it was quickly usurped by another thought. "One second," she said and she began pattering up the stairs as quietly as the old, creaky floorboards would allow. Holding her breath, she shakily opened the door to her bedroom and curled her head around the door to catch a glimpse of Henry sleeping in her bed. At that knowledge, she rubbed her heart and exhaled, thoroughly relieved that everything her dreamland had conjured up was entirely fake. Once her son and her parents were safe she knew she'd be okay.

That still didn't mean that she wasn't completely petrified to her core.

She descended the stairs step by step, suddenly feeling very cold. It was as if a chill had entered the room and clung to her skin, shivering each pore. To her surprise and secret delight, both Mary Margaret and David had stationed themselves at the counter in the kitchen waiting for her return. Both looked absolutely exhausted and in dire need of rest yet there they were, sitting and stocking up on enough caffeine to keep them awake for three days.

"He's sound asleep," she remarked as she dropped onto an empty stool facing them. "You think you got enough coffee there?"

"I don't think it'll ever be enough," David chuckled huskily, slugging down a large gulp and wiping his mouth afterward with the back of his hand. "Snow hasn't slept in days so our caffeine levels are dangerously low at this point, which means that her poor sleep deprived husband must struggle on in his slumber stupor." If he wasn't flashing Mary Margaret a loving grin Emma would have believed his resentment.

"You guys should go back to bed; there's no emergency and I'm okay. There's no need for you to be up just because I had a bad dream and I overreacted."

"No, Emma," her mother protested, reaching out for her hand, "we want to be up. We want to help in any way that we can. We weren't able to do it for your childhood but you can guarantee that we'll be there for the rest of your adult life. You're not getting rid of us that easily."

"Yeah, besides we've fought in more battles with strange beings than I can count and endured many hardships both as individuals and as a couple so a few restless nights are a piece of cake." David took another swig from his mug, the caffeine beginning to kick in; he looked ready to do just about anything.

"A walk in the park," the brunette interjected happily.

"Are you ready to talk about it? You don't have to give specifics we just want to know what it was that frightened you so much so we can uncover a solution and fix it together."

"This isn't an interrogation, we just…it hurts to see you suffer, that's all."

"Wow, you guys are pretty good at this…even before the sun rises," Emma commented with a shy giggle. She slouched a little on the stool under their watchful gaze. It was like she was a child again ready to spill on some bad deed she had done earlier.

"We do try," Mary Margaret smiled. "David even bought 'Parenting for Dummies'," she added with a titter.

"I did not," the man defended sheepishly. "I was just checking it out in the store; I wasn't going to buy it," he directed at Emma.

"Oh, yeah? Then what's that book you've been keeping in your bedside locker?"

David's eyes were as wide as saucers. "I can't believe you snooped!"

"I didn't; I was looking for cookbook and happened to come across it." She was trying to hold in the laughter now but David wasn't so amused. He was so red the blonde was sure his face would never return to its natural complexion. "But I think it's very sweet. It just shows how caring you are."

David looked at his daughter from beneath his eyelashes, clearly ashamed that he had been caught out. Emma didn't want to make him feel bad – not when he was evidently trying really hard to be prepared. "Don't worry about David," she started, clearing her throat and refusing to make eye-contact with anyone, "I…eh, I almost bought it, too," she admitted as her voice steadily decreased in volume.

"What?" her mother questioned lightly and David acknowledged with a proud smirk.

"You know, for Henry and stuff. But I'm pretty sure there's no chapter on 'How to parent the daughter who is the same age as you and has magic'. I guess they forgot to add that one in."

"You'd think they'd cater for all types of situations."

"Yeah. Or at least write an 'Unforeseen Circumstances' chapter." The seriousness with which they had this conversation finally descended upon the family. Each of them smiled widely, neither of them wanting to be the first to laugh but it was Mary Margaret who caved first, her laughter abrupt and unrelenting. David and Emma joined in; the laughter contagious.

Laughing felt good. It numbed the pain in her chest and allowed her forget – even if it was only briefly – why she was so upset in the first place. It was so easy to get lost in the conversation and calming affect her family could have on her; there was no trying too-hard or extra effort made. It was just so easy.

"So now that we have that out of our systems and our delirium has waned slightly, what happened in your dream?" Wow, Mary Margaret really didn't like to leave things hanging, did she?

Emma took a deep breath. "Oh nothing special, really. The apartment was on fire, I was trying to get out, Henry was there and so were you guys and you were blaming me for it all. I used magic and it ended up hurting the people that I lov- care about. Oh, and Regina made a cameo appearance."

"Oh, Emma," the brunette breathed, "it was just a dream. Just a scary, projection of your fears. That's it. Just because magic is a part of you doesn't mean that it will control you or that you'll wind up hurting us. I know you'll never let that happen. And you should believe that, too." She squeezed her hand in comfort. "And as for Regina, sure she's been popping up in my nightmares for years," she waved off.

"Your mother's right. You can't let a dream or a nightmare skew your reality until all you can see is the bad side. Magic can be both a blessing and a curse and I'm sure that every time you wield it, it'll be a blessing not only to you but for others as well. You can't focus on the negatives and the what-ifs. Doing that only shadows the integrity of what you possess."

"Looks like you didn't need that book after all," Mary Margaret observed, cupping the side of his face with her free hand. The sandy-haired man didn't hesitate to cover her hand with his.

"Yeah that was pretty good," the blonde agreed.

"So don't dwell and don't let it get to you. Tomorrow's Christmas; a time for celebration and joy and being with the people that mean the most to you," David finished, happy with his closing statement.

"Okay. I'll try."

"Good. I think sleep is in order."

"Definitely."

* * *

"Do you think we should have told her?" David whispered as he got under the covers.

"What, about…?" Snow didn't want to say it aloud.

"Yeah, that. She's not going to be too happy when she finds out."

Snow paused for a few minutes, basking in the silence. "I know," she uttered a few minutes later.

David didn't reply.

* * *

Christmas morning was more than what Emma had expected. Henry was up at the crack of dawn – which meant the rest of them got little to no sleep – and more than eager to begin ripping the gift wrap off his presents. Since Emma had been slightly held-up being in Fairytale Land and preoccupied with being incessantly fatigued since returning home, she didn't have much time to shop and buy Henry a great Christmas present. Which was _just _perfect – it was her first holiday with her son and she couldn't even spoil him. She reminded herself to add that to her list of Cora hate later. Nevertheless, the kid was so excited and thrilled with everything he got: a new scarf, hat and gloves set from Mary Margaret, a new art kit from David along with a new wooden sword designed exactly the same way David's first one was (apparently), some sweets From Ruby and Archie, and finally, that toy dragon he had been eyeing for months from Emma. _That _he was especially happy with.

The only presents remaining were from Regina but Emma wasn't going to let the thought of her ruin was what turning out to be a pretty perfect day. Dinner was exquisite – who knew Mary Margaret and David made such a good team in the kitchen? – and Emma truly took it all in. Sitting at the table as her son made conversation with her mother while her father stuffed his face, she marvelled at what her life was like now. Christmas the previous year was non-existent; it was amazing what could happen in a year. And to top it all off, _she _even got presents – nothing big but they were enough to bring tears to her eyes. She felt silly crying over receiving gifts but understanding the thought and love behind each one was almost too incredible for her to describe.

She collapsed onto the couch after dinner, her stomach thoroughly stuffed. "I've think I've eaten enough for the next three years," she said, holding her tummy.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," David said, cleaning up the last of the dishes.

Mary Margaret joined the blonde on the couch looking a little edgier than she did a few moments beforehand. "Emma," she began, turning her body to face her, her fingers interlocking and breaking over and over again. "I have something to tell you."

That got Emma's attention. She sat straighter. "What's up?"

"I know we should have told you earlier but it was just never the right time."

"Mare, it's okay; just tell me." She smiled, hoping it would relax the brunette. It didn't.

"Emma, we-"

A knock on the door stopped the woman and Emma saw her shoulders tense.

"Who's that?"

Henry came trampling down the stairs and headed for the door. He pulled the door open with a big smile on his face. "Hey, Mom."

_Mom. _A chill ran down Emma's spine that only signalled one thing: Regina had arrived.

**So what did you all think? Especially about the beginning because I really wanted it to read well! Anywho, I really hoped you all liked it and thank you all so much again! Please review and tell what you thought :)**

**Hope you all have a great time this holiday season!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys! I'm glad you all liked the last chapter – I hope this one doesn't disappoint! :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

* * *

**A few nights ago…**

"I can't believe you did that!"

"I know, I know. When I think of it now I don't know what I was thinking, or how I could have made such a decision."

Snow closed her eyes and crossed her arms, almost afraid to say anything she was actually thinking. Sometimes her opinions were not so generously accepted. "Maybe you weren't in your right mind," she offered as sternly as she could.

"What's that supposed to mean? What are you implying?"

"WhatI mean is that, perhaps there was something swaying your judgement…"

"No, no! This…this was all me." David ran his hands through his short hair, leaving one cupping the back of his neck. He looked…trapped. Like a child who had been caught in a lie.

"Well then I don't understand! At all!" Snow spat, letting her anger and incredulity get the better of her as her eyes opened hastily.

"It felt like the right thing to do; that's the only explanation I have. You weren't there, you didn't see how-"

"_I wasn't there?" _she repeated snappily._ "_Yes of course I wasn't there because I was frantically trying to find a way to get back home to my family! And the only slither of solace I could rest in was believing that you were taking good care of our grandson. _This, _this isn't what I expected. This isn't good, Charming."

The man's shoulders dropped, recognising that he was fighting a losing battle. If Snow were not so bewildered at what he had done she may have wrapped her arms around him in comfort. He looked so lost, so ashamed at his own behaviour. "How do you think she's going to take it?"

"Oh, she's not going to take it. Not at all. And she sure as hell will not be pleased with you when she finds out it was your doing that led to this."

"I thought as much."

There was no consolation to be found in his reply. Nothing there to appease the situation, or make it appear better than what it was. As far as she was concerned, nothing good was going to come out of it. "I have a bad feeling about this. I can't begin to imagine what will come from it. We can only hope that things will turn out okay."

David's ocean blue eyes were soft as they gazed upon her. "For the first time in a very long time, I feel like you don't mean those words."

"Maybe that's because I don't."

* * *

**Present Day**

In an instant the temperature in the room plummeted drastically. Only Regina could have that effect on something. Emma willed herself to move; to jump from the couch and protect her son from the Evil Queen. She just wanted to do anything she could, but she was glued to her seat, petrified as images of her dream flashed in her head like warning signals.

"Hello, Henry." Even her voice made the blonde's blood curdle. Anger welled from her core and began its travels through her veins. The more she thought about Regina and the fact that it was her who enacted the curse and dramatically changed the course of everyone's lives, the more furious she became in the knowledge that Henry had been with her for ten years. She didn't want her son to be around her, much less actually be her son.

And then there was the big question: why was she even here? More importantly, whose bright idea was it to unleash the monster on her without telling her? There was no way Regina would just show up without an invitation; there was nothing she hated more than spending time with the Charmings. _Everybody _knew that. No, there was something else going on here – something Emma wasn't told about.

"Come in," the boy said, pulling the door wide open. Regina did so promptly. Emma reluctantly turned her head to look at the visitor. Or intruder; it felt more like an intrusion.

Maybe she could just slink away without anybody knowing and not have to face…

"Miss Swan," Regina addressed in her usual distasteful manner, interlocking her fingers. Emma had no choice but to acknowledge with a solitary nod. She didn't really feel like talking. The mayor cleared her throat rather awkwardly and Henry gave her a look that only seemed to mean something to her. "I'm, eh…I'm glad to…" she exhaled sharply, "I'm glad to see that you and Mary Margaret made it home in one piece."

"You are?" the blonde quizzed, not believing a single word that came out of her mouth.

The brunette paused, as if trying to stop herself from saying something she couldn't take back. To that Emma could only smirk.

Regina broke the stare and turned her attention back to Henry who was, every now and then, sneaking a peek at the bag she was carrying that undoubtedly held his Christmas presents – and not subtly, she might add. Someone ought to teach that boy some spy skills. "How are you, Henry? How has your Christmas been so far?"

"It's been good. I got a lot of really cool stuff!"

"Well, now you'll get even better stuff," she conspired, leaning down to his level with a big smile. If Emma wasn't so hell-bent on keeping things as civil as possible for both her sake and Henry's she would have jumped up there and then and wiped that smug smile off her face. "Here you go," she said, handing Henry the bag, "I hope you like them."

"Thanks!" the boy exclaimed, taking the bag and immediately inspecting the wrapped gifts in wonder and awe. It didn't take long for him to start shredding the gift wrap and leaving the remains all over the floor.

"Regina," David said sternly – finally showing some initiative, "can I get you anything?" Now those were not the words Emma expected to hear; 'get out of my house and leave my family alone' or something along those lines was more in line with what she thought. Out of everyone, David hated Regina the most and was very verbal in expressing that opinion, so Emma was a little taken off-guard by his cordial attitude.

It's not that Emma didn't recognise Henry's need to see his…mother, she did, but she just wished it was at a time when she wasn't so vulnerable with herself; especially now with magic nestling inside of her ready to explode at any given time. Or preferably at a time when she didn't have to have face-to-face contact with her. Regina had taken a lot and given nothing back, so Emma wasn't exactly in a forgiving mood, despite it being the holiday season.

"I…would love one," the Evil Queen replied as politely as a robot could manage.

Emma watched as the woman sauntered over to the counter and took a seat. It looked so wrong, Regina being in the apartment. Like there was something else afoot. Scanning the room, Emma's eyes fell on her mother who was busy trying to look busy in her bedroom. Seeing her window of opportunity, she rose to her feet and made a dash across the room to meet her mother. If anyone was going to have any answers around here, it was her.

* * *

"I trust our agreement still stands even with the change in circumstances," Regina said, examining the contents of the mug David handed her.

"Agreement?" David scoffed. "We're not running a business, Regina."

She quirked her eyebrow. "Call it what you want, David, but I would hope that you know better than to back out of the deal we made."

He planted his two hands on the counter and leaned forward. His goal was to be intimidating but Regina's lack of movement, except for smiling, only fuelled his disdain. "Is that a threat? Because if it is, I promise you that our _agreement_ will not hold."

"Emma doesn't know, does she? I figured that she would be particularly verbal on the matter. After all, it very much concerns her." David didn't answer. With a sigh he removed his hands from the counter and leaned back against the oven, crossing his arms. "I thought as much," she chided, taking the teeniest of sips of her beverage.

David felt the heat rise in his blood. He hated the way she just waltzed into their home and automatically made everyone feel inferior to her. She wasn't even Queen anymore and still she walked with the air of authority, pointing fingers and making accusations as if she possessed all the power in the universe. "I'm warning you, if you go even a minute over what we decided, that's it."

"That's what?"

"That's the end of me being nice to you."

"Oh, honey, you weren't nice to me before so surely that threat has no weight." She paused as if reining herself in. "But I appreciate what you have done and I'll stick to what we agreed."

"Trust me it's not for your benefit."

"I know it's not."

Just then, Henry barged over, his arms full of games and toys. "Thanks, Mom," he said, freeing an arm so he could give her a hug, "these are awesome. I can't wait to play with them."

"I'm glad you like them."

Regina averted her gaze back to David who softened his posture so that he looked less hostile. "Thank you, David."

"Just don't blow it," he warned, his glance shifting between mother and son, "for Henry's sake. And for your own."

* * *

From the corner of her eye, Snow could see her daughter charge across the room toward her, looking like she had an axe to grind. "This isn't going to be pretty," she mumbled to herself as she folded and refolded the same piece of clothing she had been holding for about five minutes.

"What is going on here?" Emma whispered hastily when she closed in on Snow.

"I'm folding," the brunette replied innocently, deciding to fold another sweater lying near her.

"I can see that. But that's not what I'm asking and you know it." Emma took a quick look behind her before sitting on the edge of the bed. "Why is Regina here?"

Much to Snow's surprise, the blonde didn't appear too angry, though her better judgement was virtually screaming at her not to believe everything put in front of her. Emma was the queen of bottling her emotions and her defence mechanism was an extremely sturdy set of walls erected around her heart, so who knew what went on in that mind of hers. "She's Henry's mother." That seemed like as good as answer as any – it was the truth.

"So? I am too, remember?"

"Oh, Emma. It's Christmas." Snow put down the sweater and took a hold of one of the blonde's hands. "And she's his family, too."

"I realize that but it's not like we're great friends with her. David is trying his best not to whip out his sword on her, you're in here folding dirty clothes, and I'm trying to keep my emotions in check so that I don't go all crazy sorceress and burn the whole place down to the ground which, I may add, is proving much harder than I thought. That woman just…gets under my skin, especially now when we know everything she's done. It completely baffles me as to why she was invited."

It was like Snow had locked up everything she understood about Emma's magic and threw away the key. Emma had to keep her emotions in check; she needed to remain calm.

That was going to be difficult.

"It's just that…I know she's his mom but she was here for him when we were away and, I don't know, I just really wanted to have him all to myself for a while. You know, to live in the same house as him and walk him to school and eat dinner with him. I guess that sounds really pathetic."

"No, no, of course it doesn't," Snow smiled, pushing back a lock of blonde hair off her daughter's face and understanding that feeling all too well. That was how she felt every second of every day. "Wanting to spend time with your child is one of the most natural things in the world." But the niggling feeling at the back of her mind and that all-consuming dread that lodged in the pit of her stomach was rearing its ugly head and she wasn't sure how long she could go on without telling Emma everything. She was angry at David for agreeing to it and frustrated that neither she, nor Emma, were involved in making the decision. But then, after some much needed time to think, she thought that it maybe wouldn't be so bad; that Emma would be more open to the idea.

But if this little discussion was anything to go by, she wasn't going to be.

"Emma, I-"

"Was that what you were trying to tell me earlier? Before Medusa showed up?"

"Partly," Snow gulped.

"The other part being…?" The blonde gestured for Snow to continue.

"We should probably rescue your father –"

"No, David is Prince Charming for crying out loud! I think he can hold down the fort for a little longer," she hissed. "Why won't you tell me what's going on? Why are you keeping a secret from me?"

Oh. That hurt.

"I thought we weren't going to keep secrets from each other."

"We're not, Emma."

"Then why are you so afraid to talk? Why is it so hard for you to tell me something?"

Snow could sense Emma's frustration growing with every word. "It's not bad, I promise. I mean, there's a million worse things I could think of…" Emma waited, clenching her jaw. Snow let out a sigh. "Regina's not here for a friendly visit. She's here for Henry."

"Because it's Christmas."

"No, well yes, but… what I mean is that she's here to take Henry," she explained in a hushed voice, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on her daughter. "Just for a little while," she tagged on immediately as she watched Emma's eyes widen and then contract severely.

"What do you mean? How long is a little while?"

"Just a couple of weeks."

"To live with Regina."

"Well yes, but it's not like you won't get to see him. You'll see him all the time; he just won't be sleeping here, that's all."

Emma's breath became rushed and determined as if she was desperately trying to suppress any kind of anger. "And why did no one tell me?" she growled through her teeth. "I'm his mother; I should have got first say in this! How did this happen?"

Snow shook her head, hoping that whatever she said wouldn't tip Emma over the edge. She'd been really emotional since they returned home and Snow had a feeling that her brush with death on a number of occasions had spiked her perspective on, well, everything. "David told Regina—"

"_David_? Who gave him the right to make a decision like that, huh? Who made him the boss?"

"Emma that is no way to talk about your father," the brunette scolded. No matter what Emma thought, her father was a good man and did not deserve being scorned. "He was trying to do everything humanly possible to get us back home but he had to be realistic. He didn't know when we'd be back or even if we'd get back. Henry needed his mother and Regina was there for him, making him promises not to use magic and to be a better mother. Charming saw that she was really trying and so, he took a chance on her and told her that Henry could go back and live with her over the Christmas period. You can't blame him for putting Henry's needs first."

Emma turned her gaze to the floor, her hair shielding her face. "No I can't but I would have liked to have been consulted on what was going on. You guys can't just make decisions that regard my son without talking to me about it. I should have been told before she showed up here acting like she owned the place!"

"You haven't been yourself since we got back what with your…magic and learning how to live with that. And then there are those nightmares that you have been having that involve Regina. We just didn't want to push it."

"Oh and not telling me seemed like a better option?" She was less angry now; more understanding. At least Snow's heart could beat at a regular pace again. Seeing her daughter fretful and upset over something they had done was like having the wind knocked out of her.

"Of course not. We were just worried about you. I'm sorry." She reached out and placed her hands on her shoulders, lowering her head so that the blonde would make eye-contact with her.

"I just don't trust her."

"I know; me neither."

* * *

Emma decided to keep her feelings in check as both her and mother re-joined the festivities. Regina was as smug as ever, happily using any excuse she had to make Emma want to throw her out. But Henry was happy to spend time with her and if the kid seemed to think that she was reforming then maybe there was some truth in that. Emma, on the other hand, wouldn't believe it until she saw it with her own two eyes. Regina was a like a serpent – devious and slippery and no one should ever turn their backs on a serpent.

"Okay, Henry it's time to go. Why don't you gather your things and say goodbye," Regina ordered.

Emma didn't want to be apart from her kid. It was torturous being away from him when she was stuck in another world and though she was promised that she could still see him every day, her heart ached knowing that she was being separated from him yet again.

It wasn't fair.

She understood why David did it – even though he wasn't out of the doghouse just yet - but she couldn't shake the feeling that Regina would do anything in her well of power to keep Henry longer than agreed. After all, she wasn't called the Evil Queen for nothing.

"Two weeks. You got that?" Emma asserted as she stood right in front of the woman so she would have nowhere else to look except into her stern eyes. "Not a minute more."

"Empty threats are really no use to you Miss Swan."

"Who said my threats were empty?"

Regina narrowed her eyes, the beginnings of a smirk dancing on her lips. "I think it's time we put all that behind us and try to figure out a way of raising Henry that works in everyone's interest. It's not like he can stay in this cramped apartment with you forever; a young boy needs his own space to grow. He's not able to do that here. I think we all know he'd be much better off being back in his own room, among his own things, in his own house."

She knew it. She knew Regina would find a way to twist this little holiday she was so lucky to get in the first place into a battle for who can have Henry. There was no way they were going to keep this arrangement; there was always going to be contention between them. Who knew what Regina would do to get her way? She certainly had the resources to turn this into a full-on war.

Emma couldn't lose Henry. Not when she had just got him back.

"All ready," Henry chirped.

"Say goodbye to Miss Swan, Henry," Regina sneered, never taking her eyes off the blonde.

"He's not going with you." The words were out of her mouth before she even thought them.

"What?" Mary Margaret gasped in surprised from behind the counter.

"Emma-" David started…but couldn't finish.

"No. He's not going with her." She further closed the gap between them so that their noses were almost touching. "I don't know what your plan is Regina but I assure you that it's never going to happen."

"And I assure you, Miss Swan, that I have no idea what you're talking about."

No one was prepared for what happened next.

**Yes I am going to leave it there! Sorry! I know a lot of you thought that Snow was pregnant and I had thought about doing that a while ago but the timeline would be totally messed up with that. Maybe another time I'll go down that route, but as of right now I haven't thought much about it. The Regina idea kinda just popped into my head a few weeks ago…so it's probably terrible! Ha I'm sorry if you don't like it…but I really hope you do! **

**Anyway, I want to wish everyone a Happy New Year and I hope you all enjoy the celebrations! :)**

**Oh, and if you have time, please review! Haha :)**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey all! Thank you guys so much for taking the time to read, review, follow, and favourite - it really means so much! Hope you like what you read! :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

It all happened so quickly that Snow didn't have time to make a move. Before her brain could register anything, she was thrown asunder and everything went dark. The last thing she remembered was her heart lurching in the shrieking silence just before a dazzling white light encapsulated the room, the immense heat burning her skin. There were a few, faint murmurs before it all escaped from her and she slipped into the darkness.

* * *

"_Emma," she whispered groggily, "what are you doing?" _

"_I was just…I was…I don't know." Why did words always fail her at the most important times? "I just needed some fresh air." That was the best she was going to come up with as Lara stumbled out of bed to take the bag out of her hands. _

"_Let me get this straight; you're climbing out the window at midnight with all of your belongings just so you can take a walk?" She chuckled as she tossed Emma's bag onto her bed. "What's going on, Em?"_

_Emma didn't know that to say. It wasn't like she planned the whole thing; she just felt like she had to leave. She should have guessed Lara would catch her; apart from being a light sleeper, Lara, being Emma's best friend, had developed this weird sixth sense when it came to Emma. That, coupled with the blonde's complete lack of stealth meant that Emma didn't stand a chance. "I don't belong here."_

"_Well technically neither do I," Lara laughed, "but this is the best foster home I've ever been in and they really care about us, Em. They take us shopping and buy us new clothes and there's always food for us to eat. They treat us good. Why would you want to leave?" _

_She was always the voice of reason – a caring, considerate voice of reason. Emma met her three years previous in the system but didn't really get to know her until Bill and Sarah Carson came along. The Carsons fostered four children and had two of their own. Being the only girls besides Mrs Carson living in the house, Emma and Lara became fast friends, learning to live with and depend on one another. Lara was Emma's best friend. Actually, she was Emma's only friend, and there was no one else on the planet Emma cared about more. _

"_Because I can't shake the feeling that we're not going to be here much longer and I don't want to be here that day when they come into this room and tell us that they're sorry but we've to pack our bags and go back into the system." She was upset now; tears stung the back of her eyes but she didn't want to cry. She'd done enough of that when she was younger. She had to be strong. _

"_What makes you say that?" Lara dropped onto the edge of her bed, crossing her legs. _

_Emma scuttled from the window pane back onto her own bed, facing her friend. "I overheard Sarah telling her mother that Bill lost his job. There's no way they can afford to keep six kids in the house with only a teacher's salary as income," she conspired. _

"_You don't know that. You'd be surprised the amounts of cash families have locked away. I reckon you're just over-analysing the situation – as usual."_

"_Fine," Emma said, rising to her fee again and walking over to the other bed to collect her bag. "You stay here and wait for them to kick you out, but I'm going before they get the chance."_

"_Emma Swan you're fifteen years old; where do you plan on going? And more importantly, why am I not included in this little Houdini act you're pulling, huh? Don't want me around anymore?" she smiled widely. But before Emma could answer, Lara continued. "Well don't even answer that because I wouldn't go with you. Besides it being below freezing out there, you'd have to deal with that ten-foot drop from the window, and I hate to break it to you but you're no Rambo."_

_Oh yeah. Emma forgot about the fall. She really needed to sort out plans before instigating them. She let out a sigh and flung her bag that contained the few possessions she owned across the room, the items spilling onto the ground. _

"_Look, I know you're scared," Lara started softly, "but I don't think you have anything to worry about."_

_Emma didn't respond. Deep down she fiercely hoped that what Lara said was true but she had gone through so much in the eight other foster homes she had been in to know not to get too comfortable in one place. She couldn't shake the feeling of being abandoned and she feared that that was something that would never go away. _

_Lara, seemingly accepting that Emma wasn't going anywhere just yet, got back into bed and breathed deeply. "What do you want out of life, Emma?"_

_To that, there was only one answer. "I want to find my parents; I want them to look me in the eye and tell me that the only reason they gave me up was to give me my best chance…and that they love me."_

_Lara mulled that over for a few quiet moments and Emma decided to get back under the covers of her own bed. "That seems fair," she eventually replied thoughtfully. "Do you ever dream about a normal life? You know, having a good job, nice house and car with a husband and kids?"_

"_Sometimes," the blonde answered honestly, wondering where all this was coming from. Lara never talked of things like this. "I suppose I'd want to get married and have a couple of kids someday, yeah. But I'm telling you, if I ever have kids, I'm going to make them feel like they're loved and wanted and I'd make sure to protect them from anything or anyone that hurt them. No kid should have to feel the way we have. I want to make sure that my kids are happy."_

"_I know what you mean but if it's a happy ending you're looking for, turn on one of those Disney princess movies because I'm pretty they're the only places those exist," Lara giggled. "True love and happily ever after sounds nice but I don't think our world is capable of that."_

"_Well I like to believe that it is," Emma laughed back at the absurdity of their conversation. No matter what the circumstances, Lara could always make her laugh. _

"_You do that, then, but I'm going to catch-up on some sleep. Goodnight, Sleeping Beauty."_

_Emma scoffed good-naturedly. "Sleeping Beauty? No way. If I was going to be any princess I'm going to be Snow White. She's probably got the most messed up family situation out of all of them!"_

"_You've got a point there. Night, Em."_

"_Night, Lara."_

* * *

Emma's eyes bolted open only to meet passing lights. Where was she? The only thing she could remember was being at home and Regina was there…and then she was fifteen again, talking to her friend Lara. _What was happening?! _

She tried to move – to make any kind of movement – but she was stuck, restrained to…something. Then, all of a sudden, a face swam into her view, holding a torch and rapidly projecting it into her eyes. A panic took hold of her and she felt like she had to get up and get out. "Hen-Henry?" she managed to choke out as other people clouded her vision yelling and pointing in all directions.

"Emma? It's Dr Whale. You're going to be okay," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. "There was an accident. You're at the hospital now and you're going to be just fine; you just need to try and relax."

Relaxing was the last thing she could do as a shooting pain erupted from her legs and ran up her back. A cry of anguish escaped her lips and her fear accelerated to a new level. She grappled furiously against the hands that were holding her arms and legs, trying to free herself but to no avail. "Where's Henry?" she screeched, "And Mary Margaret and David?"

"I'll explain everything later but right now you need to take deep breaths, okay?"

Her world was spinning chaotically and it became too hard to focus on anything. She squeezed her eyes shut, attempting to block out the pain and the thoughts that ravaged her mind. Something cold pricked her exposed upper arm and within a few seconds, Emma succumbed into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

"Mary Margaret? Mary Margaret…can you hear me?"

"David?" she replied, slowly opening her eyes. The first thing her eye alighted on was the cold, clinical wall facing her and that was enough to send her heart into a tailspin. She was in…the hospital? What?

"Yes, I'm here."

She frantically turned her head to the right to see her husband lying in the bed next to her, separated only by a bedside locker. "David, what happened? What's going on? Where's Emma?" She was bordering on hysterical, her mind full of unanswered questions and horrible feelings of trepidation. She didn't feel sick; just a little lightheaded and that would dissipate over time. She didn't know why she was in hospital in the first place.

"Snow, honey, everything's going to be okay." Snow continued to gaze at him, afraid to look anywhere else. He was so calm, so serene. So in control. Giving the room a once-over to check if the coast was clear, David gently pulled back his covers and carefully planted his feet on the ground, standing upright, all the while draping an arm across his ribs. His legs moved mechanically as if the slightest of wrong movements would send him crashing to the floor. Snow watched his every move with extreme care; her heart ached as his struggle was proving more and more evident with each step.

Throwing caution to the wind, she flung back her blanket and rose to her feet to help her husband. Taking hold of his wrist, she guided him to the edge of her bed and tenderly helped him to sit down. "Thanks," he acknowledged with a worn smirk.

"David what happened?" She weaved her fingers through his and sweetly kissed his knuckles.

He sharply sucked in air between his teeth as a dart of pain coursed through him and, not wanting to make his agony any worse, all Snow could do was rub circles on his hands and brush her fingers through his short hair in comfort. She hated to see her tough, strong-willed husband so out of his depth. Charming took every fall, every injury in his stride – his pride normally too big to overcome. "I don't really remember," he proclaimed quietly, locking the bridge of his nose with his thumb and finger. "I remember being in the apartment and Emma and Regina having a fight and then…I think Emma may have used magic." A chill ran up Snow's spine; her anxieties confirmed. "The next thing I know I'm here and Dr. Whale is over me shooting that blinding torch in my eye and asking me all sorts of questions."

"What did he ask?"

"Standard stuff like my name, age and where I live," he said, wincing.

"I'd hardly call that standard," Snow remarked with a small, wry smile. "For a guy who has multiple names, ages and places of residence, you could get easily confused." To her delight, David's face did brighten briefly. "Did Dr. Whale say anything else about what happened?" she asked earnestly, feeling like David was holding back on information.

Her husband gave her hand a tight squeeze. "There was a fire," he stated matter-of-factly. "Regina and Henry were unharmed. You were knocked out by the blast and treated for smoke inhalation but I have a few cracked ribs and some minor burns – nothing to worry about," he quickly assured, flashing his best smile which fell a little flat.

Tears burned the back of her eyes and she peered over at the man for solace. "And Emma?" She didn't want to ask but any hope she clung to dwindled as David failed to mention her. The thought of something horrible happening to Emma made her physically sick and she grabbed the corner of the mattress and held onto to it for dear life as she waited for an answer.

"I don't know," he whispered, running his thumb across the palm of her hand. In what must have been an excruciating gesture, he leaned over to kiss the top of her head and pressed his forehead to hers. "I don't know," he repeated, "but I do know that whatever it is, we're going to get through it. All of us together."

"But Charming what if-"

"No, Snow, don't do that. Don't torture yourself with thoughts like that. She's going to be okay. I can feel it." He kissed her forehead before pulling away enough to take in her expression. With a swift brush of a finger, he swiped away a wily tear that had travelled down Snow's face. "Besides, have you met our daughter?" he added with a soft chuckle.

"She believed this would happen," Snow professed, her breath just above a whisper. "She believed that her power would hurt the ones she loved…"

"But it hasn't, Snow," David urged, "we're okay, and so is Henry."

"Yeah but she might not be. We don't know how she is. If anything happened to Emma I just…I don't know what I'd do." She couldn't stop the tear flow; the reality of the situation they were facing too immense. What made it worse was the not knowing.

"I know, I know," David soothed, caressing his wife's cheek, trying so hard to be strong for the both of them. "Neither do I."

They sat there in silence for a while, taking time to collect themselves. "We need to find out where she is," he declared eventually. "We need answers."

"Yes we do, but you need to rest," Snow insisted. There was no way David was up for any kind of confrontation. In the state he was in, both physically and emotionally, the slightest of things would set him off…and not in a good way. He needed to take care of himself.

"So do you," he pointed out candidly. "You've just woken up from being knocked out for a few hours, there's no way you're doing anything that doesn't involve rest. You're not up to it, love."

Now that he mentioned it, Snow felt terrible. The mixture of light-headedness, worry and dehydration made her stomach lurch and the thought of lying down was the only sweet relief she could find. But she couldn't tell Charming; no, she had to be the strong one for the both of them.

But the thought of Emma being in the hospital…alone…in God knows what pain was unbearable. Snow shook her head and got to her feet, ignoring the wash of illness that ran through her body. "I don't care; I have to see her."

"No, Snow-" her husband protested weakly but their conversation was cut short by Dr. Whale's untimely burst through the doors of their separated room.

"What are you two doing up?" he demanded, flicking his gaze from Snow to David and back again. "You," he said, pointing at David accusingly, "are supposed to be in bed. Any kind of aggravation could lead to a deterioration in your recovery. And you," he continued, gluing his focus to the brunette, "were unconscious a half hour ago and need to be lying down and taking it easy." He quickly ushered over to her and gestured for her to sit down. Snow reluctantly obliged. "When did you wake up?"

"A few minutes ago."

He tilted her chin up and then to the side. "And how are you feeling? Any headaches? Nausea? You took a nasty knock to the head."

"I did?" Reflexively, Snow brought her hand up to her head and grimaced as her fingers traipsed along a tender spot. "Ouch. Yeah that hurts," she said, dropping her hand. "I guess I'm not feeling the best but I'm sure I'll be fine."

"While that may be true, as your doctor I have to advise you that you're not going to feel any better until you lie down."

"But I need to see Emma," the brunette countered, standing up again.

"Not until you've rested."

Snow's voice was low. "Whale, you have to let me see her. How can I rest knowing that my daughter is somewhere in this hospital?"

"Can you at least tell us how she is?" David pleaded.

Whale sighed, rubbing his chin aggressively in thought. "Emma should be okay," he started, "but it appears that she was the most exposed to the flames." Snow tensed as she listened. "She has several burns on her legs and hands which will need time to heal. She also inhaled a lot of smoke and has been drifting in and out of consciousness; she hasn't been conscious long enough for us to give her a full examination so I'm afraid that I don't really have any more information than that."

"But you said that she's going to be okay, right?" David probed, struggling to his feet to take Snow's hand.

Whale hesitated just long enough for Snow's heart to begin thumping faster. "Well, yes I assume so. It's just that…whatever happened…" he tried to gather his words together, seemingly flustered. "It's like Emma's body has been zapped of its energy; like her body isn't strong enough to function normally. We have her connected to a drip to keep her hydrated but it doesn't seem to having much affect. The fluids aren't being absorbed at the rate they should be so that's something that we have to keep an eye on."

Whale might as well have been speaking in some other language because Snow didn't understand a word he was saying. The only thing she sensed was her husband's grip getting tighter the longer he spoke. "What does all that mean?" she inquired worriedly.

"Maybe nothing. We won't know until she wakes up."

"But she _will _wake up?"

The doctor puckered his lips and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Right now it's hard to tell. Honestly, I expected her to have already woken but everyone's body reacts differently so it could just be taking longer for Emma's body to adjust. We have to wait and see. Now please get back into bed and try to sleep; you guys need to reserve your energy and take it easy."

Sleep was the last thing on Snow's mind. How could she sleep when Whale was so ambiguous over her daughter's condition? Her worry was flailing and her blood was rushing through her veins at maximum speed. Using the bed as a support, she closed her eyes and breathed deeply, trying not to let any of the uncertainty forge to the forefront. She had to remain strong. Emma was going to be just fine. She always was and that was a truth that she had to have faith in.

* * *

Distant sounds of monitors beeping and various voices talking swarmed Emma's mind and though she could distinguish what each sound was, it felt as though they were all meshing together and creating this cacophony of noise that she couldn't respond to. She felt so weak, so lifeless. It was like every breath she took was using up every last drop of energy she had left – which wasn't much. Her memory was a haze and the only clear things she knew for sure was that she was in her apartment, and then the hospital, and along the way having vivid dreams of when she was a kid. It was all a bit much to take in.

Her head spinning from, well, everything, Emma subconsciously fought to stay awake but ultimately lost that battle. The darkness beckoned again.

* * *

David lay on his back in his bed, careful not move too much and exacerbate the pain of the burns even more. He'd never willingly admit it aloud but he was really hurting. Hurting from the cracked ribs and burn combo and hurting from the knowledge of his daughter's predicament. He couldn't say anything, couldn't think of any words to make Snow feel any better. She was quiet in the bed across from him with only whispered whimpers to indicate that she was still awake.

He couldn't sleep either. Every time he closed his eyes he was back in the apartment just before anything happened, calmly watching from the counter as Emma became more and more animated. In the back of his mind there was an awareness of the danger that lurked if Emma let her emotions take centre stage, but he honestly believed that they would never come to that moment.

There was a bright light and the next thing he knew, he was in the hospital. No matter how much he concentrated, he couldn't put any of the pieces together.

"Gramps!"

David snapped his eyes opened to meet the relieved smile of Henry standing over him. "Henry," he breathed, smiling back. He slowly angled himself upright into a seating position. "Come here, kid," he said and Henry wrapped his arms around him softly in a hug. "I'm so glad you're okay."

"I'm so glad you guys are, too," he replied, breaking away and running over to Snow to embrace her as well.

Snow ruffled the boy's hair and sweetly kissed the top of his head. "How did you get out, Henry?"

"My mom saved me."

The clacking of stilettos caused them all to face the doorway to where Regina stood.

**I know this chapter was done a little differently so if you didn't like it, please tell me! I just wanted to try something different and see if it worked. And I know there's a lot of angst but I hope you guys still enjoyed it! Please, please review and let me know! :)**


	17. Chapter 17

**Hey all! Thank you for all your follows, favourites and reviews – they're such good motivation! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

She had faced Regina on countless occasions, each one more dangerous than the last, but never had Snow looked upon the woman with such confliction before. Usually everything was so clear-cut, black and white, but as she held her grandson close to her heart, all Snow could feel was gratitude. Grateful that Henry, her grandson, an extension of Emma, was unharmed and that Regina was the one to protect him. "You saved him?" she breathed, matting down the boy's hair as he gripped tighter.

Regina pulled at the lapels of her navy blazer and looked the brunette straight in the eye. "Yes, I did. I am his mother and therefore that is my job – to protect him." But Regina was not the type to leave things short and sweet. "But what I don't understand is how none of you felt that Miss Swan's apparent magical ability was important enough to mention before she took it on herself to destroy everything around her. If it wasn't for my sensing that something was wrong, who knows what would have happened?" she drawled, strolling into the room with her arms crossed.

Snow didn't want to admit it, but maybe withholding that particular piece of information was a misjudgement on their part. Emma didn't want anyone to know about her ability to perform magic and so, as a family, they decided to keep mute about the whole issue although Snow was adamant that the only reason Emma chose to ignore the issue was because she wanted desperately to believe that it didn't exist. That it was something conjured up in that wild imagination of hers. But now it would appear that the decision wasn't their smartest move.

As Henry released his hold on her to take up position next to his mother, all Snow could think about was Emma lying in some hospital bed, with all sorts of tubes attached to her, her body not responding to…anything. It took all her strength not to buckle under the sorrow that purged her heart. Her baby girl was helpless and alone and here she was bed-stricken and unable to comfort her, to run her hand through her long blonde curls and tell her how much she loved her, how much she needed her. They were just starting to really become a family…

"What happened, Regina?" a strained David asked, exhaling sharply and using his elbows to prop himself up.

Regina rolled her eyes as if his question was the most absurd thing she had ever heard in her life. Flicking her hair of her face, she narrowed her eyes and sighed. "What happened was that your dear daughter nearly killed us all."

Her superior tone made Snow's blood boil. How dare she have the audacity to sneer at her daughter! She who was the Evil Queen; who had destroyed the lives of so many. "Oh don't be so callous! I can't even count how many times you've tried to kill me or Charming! Not to mention the fact that you tried to put Emma under a sleeping curse just so you wouldn't have to deal with her," the brunette spat with added venom, jabbing the air with her pointer finger and jolting from her bed just so she could stand up to her. Her dizziness was a forgotten matter at this point; all of her focus was on Emma.

"Snow," David warned only to be cut off by the woman.

"No, David," she snapped, not even bothering to turn to look at him. A single hand gesture to the air sufficed. "She doesn't get to talk like that. She doesn't get to pass judgement on others, not after everything she's done."

"Okay, _Snow White_, that's fine. Say whatever you want to say; let it all out, but don't forget the simple fact that if it weren't for me, all of us could be in a similar position as Emma – if not worse. Now's not the time to be taking trips down memory lane and passing blame."

Seeing a window of opportunity as Snow rocked back on her heels with Regina's words, David jumped into the conversation again. "What happened, Regina?" he repeated more forcefully this time, catching her attention.

"I sensed something was out-of-place," she shrugged. "Emma was becoming angrier with each second and while I would normally ignore her incessant badgering, there was a certain edge to her that I hadn't seen before. She kept clenching and unclenching her fists – something I used to do when I first started magic because I was…nervous about using it. She reached the end of her tether and I just knew something was about to happen so I cast a protection spell over me and Henry and perhaps even you, Snow." It was obvious she wasn't too keen on that last part. "There was a bright light and then the apartment was on fire. I got Henry to safety and called the fire department."

"She saved all of us," Henry said, speaking for the first time, though his voice was devoid of his usual brightness.

"It would appear so," David agreed with a nod. That was his way of saying 'thank you' and Regina knew as much, clamping her lips together in acknowledgement.

There was that confliction again. Regina had saved her life – again, as well as everyone else's. Swallowing her pride and softening her posture, Snow knew what she had to do. "Thank you, Regina," she said with genuine sincerity.

Breaking their stare, Snow turned her attention to her grandson who had remained, for the most part of the conversation, very quiet. He just stood next to his mother, facing the ground, with his shoulders slumped and his head bowed. Snow crouched down to his level and, using her maternal instincts, raised his chin so she could meet his gaze. But what she found in that young boy's eyes broke her heart. His chin quivering, holding back the tears that were accumulating in his eyes, he was trying so hard to be strong but he didn't have to be. Snow opened her arms and allowed Henry to fold into them, releasing his tears silently against her chest. Her arms wrapped around him tight and she closed her eyes, fighting the urge to join him, knowing that she needed to be strong for everyone. But it was just getting so hard.

Regina even appeared moved by the scene. Perhaps the Regina Snow once knew still existed under that cold, hard shell of hatred and resentment. David stay quiet, too, lost in thought. A million miles away.

The sound of footsteps echoing from down the hall pulled all of them back into reality and each of them looked to the door and saw the figure of Dr. Whale approaching. Snow held her breath as he came closer. She tried to read his expression to gain a better understanding of how this conversation was going to go but his face was a blank canvass.

"Come on, Henry," Regina said, clearing her throat and recognising the need to keep the boy busy. "Dr. Whale needs to check up on Snow and David. Why don't we go get some ice cream?" Tired from his ordeal or perhaps his emotional outpour, Henry replied with a nod and gathered his things. As they left the room, Snow flashed Regina a thankful smile…that was reciprocated.

* * *

Seeing Dr. Whale enter the room with such caution and purpose frightened Snow to the point where she rushed over to her husband and took his hands in hers. She needed to feel his security, his warmth, his control. She had to know that she wasn't alone; that no matter what the doctor said, she'd have someone to lean on for support. She quickly sneaked a peek at his expression and found him to be calm and collected – which was just what she needed considering she was the exact opposite. She thought her heart was about to burst while she waited for Whale to speak.

"How are you both feeling?" he finally asked in that doctorial, detached manner he embodied oh so well.

"Well considering you saw us not too long ago, pretty much the same," David answered much to the delight of Snow who felt that she would break if having to speak. "But I have a feeling that's not why you're here," he finished.

"No, it's not."

"How is she?"

Whale ran his hand through his hair. Never a good sign. "It would seem that our fears about Emma were confirmed. Her body wasn't responding to anything we were giving her and so that mixed with her injuries put her in precarious situation. She appears to have slipped into a coma."

_Coma. _That was the only word Snow heard over the pounding of her heart in her ears. Emma, her precious daughter, was in a coma. In. A. Coma.

"But she'll come out of it though, right? People awake from comas all the time," Snow pressed as she centred all of her strength into her hands that held David's.

"Yes, they do and there's no saying that Emma won't wake up in a few hours but because she has been so unresponsive since she's come in, we don't really have any idea what will happen. She could wake up at any time or…well…you know. I'm sorry." He sounded pained as he spoke; like he was scared, too.

"Can we see her?" David inquired, his voice cracking.

"Yes, but only one at a time. Right now the nurse is just doing a check-up but when she's finished, one of you can sit with her."

He smiled ruefully and then turned on his heel and left the room; the news he brought stinging the air. The silence left in his wake was eerily shrieking. Snow could feel her husband's eyes boring into the side of her head but she couldn't face him. It was like the walls were closing in on her, sucking all of the air out of the room.

She had to breathe. Had to escape this moment. Wordlessly, she untangled her fingers from David's and stalked out of the room to the restroom. Closing and locking the door, she planted her two hands against the door, throwing all her weight to her upper body, and drew in long, shaky breaths. Dr. Whale didn't sound hopeful of Emma's prospects, and without hope, Snow found it extremely difficult to stay optimistic. Emma was lying in a coma that her doctors weren't sure she'd ever come out of. They had just gotten her back; had just survived having their family separated again only to have that taken away in a breath.

It was just too much, too overwhelming. Slapping her hand across her mouth, Snow finally released the sobs she had been holding back for Henry and David and surrendered to her demons. The sobs emanated from her deepest core and erupted into her hand that muffled the screams. She had to let go; needed to release the pent up emotion that was eating her inside.

And though the tears were still forming, her vent was imperative to clearing her mind of all the horrible things she was envisioning. Now, she was determined to be there for Emma and hold her hand and wait for her to wake up. She. Was. Going. To. Wake. Up. No matter the odds, no matter what people were saying, no matter the doubts, Emma was a fighter and she was going to fight.

That was one thing Snow could count on.

* * *

David, still in a great deal of pain, had to get his burns redressed and insisted that Snow take the first opportunity to see their daughter. She couldn't quite describe the feeling walking into the room for the first time; it was a mixture of intense anxiety but also innate relief that she could finally lay eyes on her. Snow tentatively took a seat beside Emma's bed, her fingers trembling ever so slightly as she reached out to touch the blonde's hand. Emma looked so peaceful, like she was undeterred by anything in the world. In fact, it was probably the first time Snow had ever seen her so content. It was comforting to know that she wasn't suffering.

But she was pale. So pale and so lifeless. As if for her own knowledge, Snow extended her reach and placed her hand over Emma's heart just to make sure that it was still beating and, feeling its soft rhythm under her palm, a sea of relief washed over her. She closed her eyes and sighed - unsure of what to say…which was a first. Dr. Whale had informed her that Emma may be able to hear everything people were saying and so, it was important to let her know that she was there for her.

And then she had a thought: this could be the only time when she could tell Emma everything she had been feeling and not have the blonde brush it off or try to revert back to her guarded self. She could be completely honest.

Removing her hand from Emma's heart, she moved it up to her forehead and pushed back a stray curl that had fallen down into her closed eyes. There was no way Emma would ever let her do that if she was awake, which, funnily enough, made Snow feel somewhat guilty over the simple gesture.

"Emma," she breathed, gazing at her daughter's face, "it's me, Snow." She paused for a minute, a little unsure of what she was about to say. "It's me, Mom. I know we haven't really reached that stage yet where you're comfortable to call me that, and that's completely understandable, but I think it's important for you to know that I'm here. I'm here for you. You're not alone and you never will be again." She stopped to squeeze her hand tighter, clinging to a shred of unrealistic hope that it may just cause her to stir but unsurprisingly, nothing happened. With a sad smirk, Snow continued. "And don't you think that I've forgotten that you called me 'Mom' before; I know you thought otherwise, but I heard it. I actually think it's what kept me going when I was sure that I was going to…well, you know. And now it's my turn to help you. I wish you'd let me help you, Emma. You're an adult now with a child of your own and I know you think that you don't need my help or Charming's, but that doesn't mean that we won't help you – because we will. Us interfering in your life is just bound to happen so…get used to it," she laughed heavily, recalling what she said to her back in the nursery. "Do you know what really makes the curse such a horrible thing to have befallen us? It's not just that we missed out seeing you walk for the first time, or go to school, or go on your first date and all those things that come with being parents; it's seeing how broken you are. _That's _what makes my heart break the most. Knowing all that you've suffered and how protective you are of yourself truly shows how evil this curse was – and you weren't even under it. I wish I could just take away all of that pain and anger and hurt you possess and make everything better and it frustrates me knowing that it may never go away. But believe me when I say this, Emma: I will _always _be there for you and will _always _try my best to be the best mother and friend that you will ever have and I'll do everything in my power to make you feel wanted and loved and safe so that you'll never have to question those things _ever again._ Do you hear me, Emma Swan? You're not going anywhere; you're going to wake up and get better because we've got to figure out this whole family situation and how this is all going to work, okay?" She pulled in a breath and let her tears finally tumble down her cheeks as she studied the blonde's hand that she held in hers, making sure that she etched every line and scar into her brain.

She turned her gaze back to Emma's face. "Please wake up, Emma. Please, just open those beautiful green eyes so that I can breathe again and we can get back to working out what it means to be a family," she whispered, kissing her forehead. "Please wake up because I love you, my amazing, stubborn, beautiful, complicated, magical miracle."

* * *

David watched Snow with extreme care as she departed Emma's room. From the puffy red-rimmed eyes, it was obvious she had been crying, but she looked more…hopeful than before she went in. He didn't want to say anything that would take away from that and so, he did the only thing he could think of at a time like this – he opened his arms and embraced Snow in a comforting hug. Despite the discomfort of his cracked ribs, the steady rhythm of his wife's heartbeat against his chest reminded him of how much he missed her when she was gone.

"She's going to be okay," the brunette whispered against his hospital gown. "I believe it with all my heart."

"So do I."

* * *

He didn't know what to expect walking into that room and beholding his daughter lying helpless in a hospital bed. Of all the scenarios he created in his head about parenting, this was definitely not on it. He winced as he took seat next to her. He didn't really know what to say or even if it mattered because they didn't know if she could hear them or not but this was his chance to have a one-on-one moment with his adult daughter.

"Hey, Emma," he said with a smile, deciding that it was better to keep upbeat then to spiral down the emotional black hole of sorrow. That, and he knew that Snow would have said everything he wanted to. "It's David. I don't really know what to say or what I'm supposed to say. To be honest this whole parenting thing is still relatively new to me; I'm still ironing out the kinks. It's funny; sometimes I feel like I'm just assuming the role of a father because everything happened so quickly. Much like when I was a simple shepherd and then all of a sudden I was a prince slaying dragons – you know what that part is like," he noted with pride. "But I am trying and I know we're still in that awkward phase where we don't know what to talk about or whether to hug or high-five and then we end up getting stuck in the middle somewhere, but with some time I know we'll figure all that out and we'll easily slip into our roles as father and daughter. Who knows, maybe we can even double up as a sheriff tag-team? You know, taking down bad guys together and ridding Storybrooke of evil, one villain at a time. That is, of course, if you'll have me," he chuckled softly, fighting the urge to shed a tear. "That's what I'd like and I hope that you want that, too."

He readjusted himself on the seat so that he was leaning forward but in such a way as not to aggravate his injuries. "But you know in order for any of that to happen, you have to wake up, Emma. And trust me, I know it's hard to wake up from a coma – I was in one for twenty-eight years -but once you do, you can't imagine the lease on life you have and how appreciative you are for everything – big and small. I'll even help you with your rehabilitation; sometimes it can be a bit tricky to get the muscles in your back going again but I'll be there to help you every step of the way." He lowered his voice, realizing how shaky it had become. "I need you to wake up, Emma. We all do. I want to be the father I've always wanted to be and the father you've always needed. I want to get to know you. I can't…I can't even begin to describe how much I care about you and how much I need you to come back into our lives. Without you, Emma, Snow and I would lose everything because nothing else matters to us as much as you do. You just need to wake up, sweetheart." He stood slowly and placed a hand on top of her head. "I love you, Emma," he murmured before kissing her forehead.

* * *

Under Dr. Whale's orders, Snow and David were told to get back into bed and try to get some sleep but that was practically impossible for them. Both of their minds were racing with a million thoughts swirling around their heads and there was no chance of them slowing to a stop any time soon. Not until they got word of Emma's condition.

"David?" Snow whispered in the dark.

"Yes, Snow?"

"I'm still scared."

David shut his eyes and inhaled powerfully. "I know; me too. But everything is going to be okay. Emma is a Charming – being strong in the face of opposition is in her blood."

**Well that was a heavy chapter! I was actually physically tired when I finished it! Haha It took me ages to figure out what I wanted Snow and David to say separately to Emma so I hope that it worked and that you all thought it was believable and that I didn't just ruin the whole story. As always, I really hope that you all enjoyed it and please review and let me know what you thought of it :)**

**(Oh and just as a side-note, I'm not quite sure what the rules are for true love's kiss and comas so I decided that, even though both Snow and David kiss Emma's forehead, she doesn't wake up because of it)**


	18. Chapter 18

**Hey all! Thanks so much for all of your reviews, follows and favourites – I love when this story gets them! Hope you all enjoy this chapter :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

The gradual passing hours of the day morphed into endless minutes of darkness by night. This night was darker than any other night before and David was certain that even nature could tell something was wrong. Lying in bed as the world kept turning outside of the hospital, David replayed his visit with Emma earlier over and over again as if to confirm that it was real; that they were really all recovering from a magical outburst stemming from their daughter who was now in a coma. Things like this didn't happen. Sure, they' fought many battles and alluded numerous lethal foes, but all that was supposed to over with; they weren't in the Enchanted Forest anymore but in Storybrooke where those things shouldn't be knocking down their door and finding new and alternative ways to poison their lives. Back at home, threats of danger came mainly from Regina and King George, but here it came in all shapes and forms and now, Emma, their own daughter, had displayed something far more frightening than a legion of sword bearers or an evil spell caster – an ability to wield something more powerful than any of them could fathom.

Of course, Emma having magic at all was incredible but it was becoming more difficult with the passing minutes to see the bright side of this. Across from him his wife lay silently, sniffing every few minutes, using every ounce of strength to stay strong. But anyone could see that her defences were weakening. That hope she had found from seeing Emma was still there, still shining behind her heartbroken green eyes, but she didn't want to talk. Ever since David came back they hadn't spoken a word to each other and he didn't know what to do. Did he attempt conversation? Promise everything would be okay? Hold her and let her cry into his shoulder? Whatever the option, it didn't seem right. It didn't feel like it would do any good. Words and actions were failing them and the more time that passed without any update on how their daughter was doing, the more the anxiety and apprehension built into an insurmountable mountain.

Holding his ribs, David squirmed onto his side in the bed so as to face Snow. The gentle rise and fall of her chest indicated that she had finally fallen asleep but there was no doubt what her dreams consisted of. Her forehead pinched and her lips curled downward, it was plain to see that Emma was the only thing on her mind. And, she was the only thing on David's. Every day since the curse broke, the very first thing David thought of as his eyelids fluttered open and he greeted the day was Emma. It was strange, being a father that was, particularly to a grown-up woman but he hoped that he was doing enough to convince the doubters, among which was himself.

He needed to sleep. Dr. Whale had been adamant that rest was imperative to his recovery but the medication they had him on to dull the pain of his ribs kept him awake all night which meant that he could do nothing to escape the worries that tortured him during the day. He was left alone in the dark to ponder what would happen next.

* * *

Snow was awake; actually she'd been awake for hours but for the first time she opened her eyes to take in the view of the grey, melancholy tiles of the hospital ceiling. Melancholia seemed pretty apt for the day that was in it. Dr. Whale hadn't been by since the night before which to Snow only meant one thing: Emma hadn't woken up yet. Snow wasn't naïve but she couldn't help but wonder if her little talk with Emma had caused _something _inside her to revive. After all when they were just Mary Margaret and Emma, just best friends, the simplest of comments would set the blonde off and seemingly stir a lot of bottled emotions but now…now there was nothing. Needless to say, sleep didn't come easy and dreams and memories of time spent with the woman floated through her mind throughout the eerily quiet night.

Trying to rejuvenate herself, Snow smacked her cheeks lightly and rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

"How'd you sleep?" She should have known David would be awake.

"Is there a right answer to that question?" she deadpanned, turning her head to see him. He looked worn and tired; the lines on his face more pronounced than she had ever seen.

"I couldn't sleep a wink with this medication," he answered, reading her thoughts.

"Any sign of Whale?"

"He was in about an hour ago to check my dressings. No change." Snow clamped her lips sadly and nodded. "But he said that they're going to keep you in an extra day just to keep an eye on your head injury."

She ran her hands through her hair, parting it at the side. "I don't think I'll be able to go home."

"Well considering there's not much of a home to go back to anymore-"

"No that's not what I meant," she said softly, exhaling, "what I mean is that I don't think I can _face _the idea of going back home – not without Emma. Henry's staying with Regina, you're in here and Emma's…" she trailed off before her voice cracked. The idea of being discharged from the hospital alone while other members of her family had to stay behind was horrible; and then what was she going to do? Where was she going to go? As much as she wanted to, she couldn't camp out in Emma's room and she sure as hell wasn't going to bunk with Regina and she didn't want to be a burden to any of her friends…what were her options?

David grimaced as he pulled a pillow out from under him and placed it against the bedpost. With some stern concentration, he strategically planted his hands on the mattress and pushed himself upright. He still looked pained but a little more limber than the day before, which Snow was glad for. "You've been practicing," she noted with a warm smile, deciding to sit up as well.

"Well when you're awake most of the night you've got nothing else to do but figure out how to manoeuvre to the bathroom. This is step one," he chuckled lightly as he pulled his blanket around his torso. Clearing his throat, he rested his head against the wall behind him and turned to the side, his face more stoic than it was the few seconds previous. "We have to talk about it, you know."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"I think we have to-"

"I don't want to," Snow cut abruptly, her emotions getting the better of her. Obviously she knew that they couldn't go on dancing around the subject and ignoring it in the hope it goes away, but every time she thought it was the right time, the right moment to bring it up, she curled inward and everything just became that little bit more harder. As if the reality wasn't already soul destroying enough, discussing it was far more unendurable.

"But Snow," her husband appealed sensitively, "we have to talk at some point. The more we put it off, the harder it'll be." It was like he had read her mind. "Look, I don't want to bring it up either but the truth is it's a case of having to."

The way his words hung heavy in the air pierced Snow's heart and the ever faithful tears filmed her eyes yet again; the lump in her throat was a much more prominent feature of her frame than ever before. "What are we going to do, Charming?" she whispered. "We got her back and then we were separated again, and we finally make it home and this happens. Why does the world keep throwing obstacles at us? Why couldn't we just spend time with her and get to know her and just be her parents? What if we never get to be them?" The rising and subsequent breaking of her voice signalled that she was about to lose it and she was pretty sure she wouldn't be able to stop.

"Snow," David soothed, "Snow, we will be. We will be."

"You don't know that; you can't predict the future."

"You're right, I can't but that doesn't mean that I'm going to give up hope; not where my daughter is concerned and I know you're not going to either."

He was right. Believing in hope and having faith was something they had always done even when the odds were stacked against them and the outlook was miserably bleak; it was the only thing they _could _do, the only thing they _had_ control over. She nodded purposely, to manifest her resolution not to quit.

He seemed content with her action and let out a sad sigh as if remembering what they were agreeing: to believe that their daughter will survive. What a terrible agreement. No parent should have to pray that their child would make it through the night and the next one and the next one…

"Do you know what I was thinking about last night before I eventually fell asleep?" Snow gently asked. She brought her knees close to her chest and observed despondently that Emma did a similar thing when sitting on the couch, ready to listen to Mary Margaret about all that had happened that day. Now that she thought about it, she didn't remember seeing Emma do that at all since the curse broke.

"What?" her husband replied warily.

Snow drew circles on the blanket covering her knee with her pointer finger. "I was thinking about how I spent so much time with Emma when we were just friends, just Mary Margaret and Emma, and how, even though I could see Emma slowly letting her guard down, I still didn't really know that much about her past. I mean, I knew who she was as a person: kind, loving, funny, fiercely loyal, stubborn to no end, tactful, resourceful, incredibly strong and courageous. There were so many facets to her, so many new things to discover every day; she was like a riddle." She stopped for a moment and smiled as she thought of the blonde. "We grew so close. Did I ever tell you that she once told me we were like family? Before that moment I didn't think much of family because in Storybrooke I didn't have one, but hearing her say it aloud, I'd never felt so…important before. So connected to someone. At the time I cast away any kind of peculiar thoughts I had, but now I can see that in that moment, I truly believed that we _were _family and not because she had just said it. I really believed it and it turned out to be the truth."

"You both had a very special friendship; everybody could see that. Emma was willing to lose her job and her status in town as long as she could prove your innocence when everyone thought that you…" he trailed off, assuming that wouldn't be a good line to go down presently. "She wasn't going to stop for anything until she proved that you didn't do anything. You share a unique bond with her, Snow."

"But I still don't know anything about her past," Snow pointed out hastily. "I spent so much time with her and we grew so close and yet I don't even know how she got her last name or where she went to school or what friends she had when she was younger. I don't even know when her birthday is." A single teardrop escaped her eye and trickled down the side of her face, finishing at the corner of her mouth.

"You can ask her all those things when she wakes up. We have all the time in the world to get to know Emma." There was his unwavering faith yet again, striking at the most vulnerable time and throwing light on a dark situation. He looked like the weight of the world was pressing down on his shoulders and he clutched the covers but the sincerity that burned with his assertion could not be overlooked. "How's your head?" he suddenly asked, catching her unawares.

"Oh, it's okay…I guess." The headaches had dispelled into nothing but a persistent pounding in between her eyes and her dizziness had decided to take a vacation for the time being. A pleasant break from what it was like the day before.

His eyes were saturated with distress but warm and understanding all at once. With a loose gesture, he beckoned for Snow to join him. Shooting her husband a meek smile, she crawled out from under her covers and shuffled around David's bed, sitting up onto the bed beside him. Once there, David looped an arm around her shoulder and drew her close to him so that her head could rest in the crook of his neck and kissed the top of her head sweetly. He soothingly and wordlessly ran his hand up and down her arm like he was trying to heat her up.

"What are we going to tell Henry?" Snow whispered into his shoulder and her heart ached again as her mind drifted to her grandson. So young, so innocent, and yet so involved in a dark and complicated world. Not every young boy has to deal with the fact that his mother's ability to use magic put her in a coma.

Even now Snow cursed herself for not being clearer of the dangers of using magic. She suspected Emma wouldn't have given her warnings much adherence but at least there was an incentive to plant the seeds of what were to happen if things went too far. As soon as they stepped foot in Storybrooke, Snow was more than aware that her daughter was struggling with the toll magic was taking on her body but evidently, she assumed that Emma would never reach a point where all of her strength would cascade out and leave her running dry of energy.

"We tell him the truth: that Emma needs rest and she'll be awake in no time."

"I don't want to lie to him, David. He knows what a coma is; he understands the severity of the situation." She paused to dance her fingers along her husband's forearm.

"You're right. We'll just take it a step at a time." He kissed her head again. "What are we going to do about the apartment?"

It seemed like such an insignificant problem when compared to everything else they were facing but it _was _a valid question. The apartment was in ruins. Whatever the outcome, they still needed somewhere to live. "Well the apartment was too small for the four of us anyway, so I guess we'll have to go house-hunting."

"Oh joy," David droned sarcastically with a smirk. "I do have one condition though."

"Really? And what would that be?"

"We need to have a big yard. I grew up on a farm so if we're going to buy a house then it's got have a lot of space."

"I'll see what I can do," Snow teased, draping her arm across his abdomen. It was amazing how easy they were around each other despite being apart for so long. However, no amount of light conversation could detract them enough from their reality – there was no escaping the gravity of the circumstances that gripped them so tight that breathing became highly laborious.

"I think we should go visit Emma," David suggested, his tenderness so incredibly palpable.

"Together?"

"Yeah. Emma needs to know that her parents are there for her and that we're not going anywhere."

She saw it – that glimmer of the protective, nurturing, loving father that she knew he would always be from the day she told him that she was pregnant. "I think that's the best idea you've had all day," she replied, keeping it all as upbeat as she possibly could though most likely failing miserably.

* * *

Following a routine check-up from Dr. Whale and some deft persuasion on David's behalf, both Snow and Charming were allowed to see Emma at the same time. Whale, though opposed to the idea initially, was clearly sympathetic to their ordeal. He explained to them that they could take their time but they'd have to be back in their room for lunch to which they readily agreed.

Standing outside of the room, Snow paused to catch her breath. She looked to her husband for reassurance and he weaved his fingers through hers. With a small smile and nod he pushed the handle down and opened the door, leading the way in.

It seemed as though Emma had more colour in her cheeks than the previous day but that could have just been Snow's mind tricking herself into believing it was true. She still resembled a person in a peaceful slumber which still lent comfort to the brunette. Charming dragged over a stool and placed it beside the blonde's bed. Snow lowered herself onto the seat she sat in hours ago; she was certain the arms of the chair were still tear-soaked.

"Hey, Emma," Snow greeted, brushing her hand through the ends of Emma's unruly hair. She loved that Emma's hair was as wild and as curly as hers once was.

"It's us," David continued. He opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it just as quickly. Snow cocked her head to the side and raised her eyebrows. "I've got nothing," he admitted sheepishly.

Snow pondered for a minute as she gazed at her daughter and then to her monitors and then back to her again. "Why don't we tell her a story? One that she doesn't know?" she offered.

Charming's eyes alighted. "Yeah, which story? The one where we defeated King George's men, or when we tricked Regina or the time we had to stop Red from eating Grumpy?" She could practically hear the wheels squeaking in his head and for the first time since they woke in the hospital, he was enthused. It was obvious that he missed the Enchanted Forest. If he saw what Snow did, however, he may not look at it as fondly as he remembers it to be.

"No I was thinking of something a little less gruesome." She took hold of Emma's hand. "Why don't we tell her the story of when I told you I was pregnant with her?"

"If you must," David sighed good-naturedly with a theatrical roll of the eye. She loved how he acted as if Emma could see and hear everything they were saying. Then again, maybe she could.

"Okay," Snow began, leaning in to conspire, "so it was about three months after our wedding and I had been feeling quite sick, especially in the morning, and me, not being very experienced in the art of pregnancy, immediately thought I was dying or had some kind degenerative illness."

"She's not joking; you should have heard her," David chimed in with a low laugh. "So one morning she forced me call Doc but then insisted I leave when he was running all sorts of tests because she feared I couldn't take the result – we didn't even know if there was anything wrong yet!"

"Right, but you know how you are. You're constantly jumping to conclusions and trying to automatically fix things-"

"I am…?"

"Yes. I'm glad we can agree on something," Snow teased, "so anyway Doc ran all sorts of tests on me and I…I was totally freaking out and running through a list of possible sicknesses and I remember not really paying that much attention to what Doc was saying other than hearing the words, 'Congratulations your Highness, you're pregnant' and then that was it. I'd never felt such elation, such love, such joy in one swift moment and everything I had ever envisioned for myself about my future had been pushed aside in that the only thing I could imagine was me, you and your father; nothing else but being a family." She was whispering now and her voice wobbled as she recalled the moment. She rubbed her thumb across Emma's knuckles and looked to her husband to see him staring at Emma as intently, so affectionately. Clearing her throat self-consciously, she continued, "And then I was so excited that I just _had _to tell someone."

"Yeah, Emma, and you would think that was me, right? Nope. It turns out Red gets precedence over me."

"I couldn't find you," the brunette defended, "and Red happened to stop by for tea while you were off doing whatever it was that you were doing."

"It's called running a kingdom, my dear," he smirked.

"Whatever. Besides, Red is Emma's godmother so she had a right to know, too. Anyway I told you as soon as you came back and do you remember how you reacted?"

David hung his head. "Vaguely…"

"You nearly fainted, Charming," Snow laughed, gazing back at the blonde. "He needed to sit down before he ended up on the floor. I tell you, for someone who is so brave you'd think he'd be able to deal with the news that we were having a child. And then, to celebrate and possibly ease his mind, your father went out all night with the dwarves and ended up wandering the woods the next day, somehow losing his jacket and boots along the way." Charming remained silent now, but she could see the beginnings of a grin on his lips. "Eventually he returned home and I _think _he was still a little out-of-it, but I didn't care because he looked into my eyes and he told me that he'd never been happier, that he already loved you and that he couldn't wait for us to start…to start this new chapter in our lives." Bringing Emma's hand up to her face, Snow let the tears flow as a culmination of what was happening at that moment, what she was remembering, and how they never got that life they wanted to have reached its peak. She just wanted her little girl to wake up.

"It's true, Em. I know your mom makes it out like I was scared – which in fairness I was – but once I thought about the life I wanted, I knew I wanted you in it even though I had absolutely no idea if you were going to be a boy or a girl. But that didn't matter – I was going to be a father and I can't possibly describe how much that role means to me. I just didn't expect it to come so quickly after getting married," he tagged on with a chuckle.

"Please wake up, Emma," Snow whispered intensely…again, feeling like a broken record. What else could she say? What else could she do but hope?

The sound of the door opening made Snow and David look up to see Henry standing at the end of the bed.

"Henry," David said breathlessly.

"Mom?" the boy said, taking in the scene.

"She's going to be okay, Henry. She's going to be okay."

"When will she wake up? Dr. Whale said she was in a coma and it took you twenty-eight years to wake up from yours…" He was visibly upset and Snow dropped Emma's hand to take the boy into a hug before letting him take the seat next to his mother.

"I was under a curse, Henry; they're completely different situations. Emma will wake up when she's ready; you just have to have faith in her and know that she's coming back to us."

"Maybe you could talk to her – if you like?" Snow suggested.

"Yeah, buddy, that could be a good idea."

"What would I say?" he sniffed.

"Anything you want. We could go outside if you want privacy?"

Henry seemed torn. "Could David stay with me?"

Snow smiled at the bond those two shared and it warmed her heart. "Yes, of course. I'll be right outside." She let her stare briefly flicker to Emma as she exited the room to meet Regina sitting on a chair in the hallway.

**So what did you all think? I know it didn't move the plot forward that much but I like playing around with the drama of the story and how that affects everything around them so I hope you all don't mind! When will Emma wake up? Will she survive? That's a question that will be answered…at some point. Haha as always, I do hope you enjoyed it and please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	19. Chapter 19

**Hey guys! Thank you all so much for the reviews, follows and favourites! I hope you enjoy this chapter!**

**Unfortunately, I do not own OUAT. **

After the past couple of days she had had, Regina was the last person Snow wanted to come face to face with. She was grateful to her of course for taking care of Henry and distracting him from Emma's condition and, to be fair, for saving them from the fire but Regina wasn't exactly a person with whom one could stay happy with for long. When she did something good it was usually counter-balanced by something truly terrible; take the good with the bad as they said. And in the emotional state Snow was in leaving Emma's room, she just wasn't in the mood for a snarky passing comment or a wrinkle of the nose from the mayor.

It was hard to look at the woman now without visualising the list of grievances she had committed in all the years Snow had known her; the shorter hair and wholly different dress sense couldn't mask the person she was both back in the Enchanted Forest and in Storybrooke.

Regina didn't move, didn't make a sound. She just looked right at Snow, her face a cool façade. Noticing the empty seat beside her, the brunette wrestled with whether to sit down next to her enemy or not. She crossed her arms uncomfortably, narrowed her eyes and puckered her lips in thought.

Not surprisingly, Regina was the first to initiate. "That whole hospital gown look doesn't really suit you, Snow," she commented. It was such an odd conversation starter that Snow found herself inspecting what she was wearing: a white hospital gown that fell to just past her knee, a grey cardigan and a pair of very plain, very drab slippers that felt like cardboard boxes on her feet. Yeah, sure she'd looked better but worrying about her appearance was not nearly a priority right then. "I guess we are a far cry from home," Regina continued with a sigh, crossing her legs.

Sensing that Regina was trying to make small-talk instead of using the opportunity to rile her up and express any qualms she has with her family, Snow slinked onto the edge of the chair, leaning that slight bit forward in case of a need to escape. She couldn't help it – Regina just put her on high security alert.

The mayor made eye-contact with her yet her expression was soft…if Regina had a soft expression. Snow hadn't truly seen that side to her since she was a child. "That we are," she replied, her tone detached.

"I mean, look at what I am wearing," she declared, gesturing to her set of clothes that included a red blazer, a black blouse and skirt combined with black knee-high boots. "Don't get me wrong, these are much easier to manoeuvre in but I miss my dresses."

This was such a strange conversation to be having. Regina actually sounded like she wanted to talk which was just a mind-boggling concept. Never had she ever displayed any kind of desire to spark a chat with Snow over something as trivial as clothing; their conversations generally whittled down to the basic surrender-or-not war. And both parties were _very _clear on which side they were on. "Regina what are you doing?"

_That _caused her eyes to steel. ""What do you mean what am I doing? I'm trying to make conversation."

"Since when have you _ever _wanted to make conversation with me?" Snow challenged, exasperated from, well, everything. Regina's sincerity was just too forced and the last thing Snow needed was another headache. She could barely breathe as it was; the walls were caving in on her, the ground shaking underneath. Nothing was right – her world was flipped on its axis.

The mayor pushed some stray hair off her face and clasped her hands together. "Since I know…" she exhaled sharply, "what it's like to see your child in hospital."

Snow's reply was devoid of emotion. "So, what, you're sympathetic to my situation now? That's rich considering not too long ago you tried to put Emma under a sleeping curse _and _let's not forget that you cursed an entire population just so you could pull the strings and see us all suffer, so excuse me if I'm a little sceptical of your empathy."

"Look I know that it sounds phony coming from me but I'm trying to be different. I'm trying to change, to be a better person for Henry's sake. He believes in me and all I can do is give it a try and right now I'm attempting to overlook our tremendous history and focus on the fact that your child is unwell. And when I think of it that way, I feel sorry for your situation because I've been in that dark place when you don't know if your child will survive and…it's a scary place." She straightened her blazer as she finished as if remembering who she was and who she was talking to. She did sound genuine, however; Snow had to acknowledge that.

Snow felt cold; what was it about hospitals that just made people feel sick? The dull, clinical colours of white and pale blue added nothing to the already dire, despairing atmosphere and the sting of industrial bleach lingered in the air.

She suddenly turned to face the stern brunette who was now looking everywhere else except at Snow. "Thank you for looking after Henry."

"You're welcome."

That response signified the end of their conversation and Snow's dismay at the woman was superseded by her anxiety creeping to the fore yet again. Henry and David were still in with Emma and it was so important for Henry to have that moment with his mother. The poor kid had been through so much over the past while – it was amazing he was still as chipper and still as enthusiastic and excitable as ever. He really was a special boy - something Snow had always known – and he proved that again and again in the way he handled himself in such peculiar circumstances.

* * *

David could see that Henry was awkward and unsure of what to do. He decided not to say anything in case of further flustering the boy so instead he shot him a cheering beam in the hope of giving Henry a boost. Still relatively new to the world of parenthood, and indeed grandparenthood, he was happy to see that his smile had given the boy enough courage to take his mom's hand.

"Can she hear me?"

"You bet she can, buddy."

Henry dropped his stare to his hands. "Then why can't she wake up?" Such a simple question that David didn't have the answer to.

Absentmindedly stroking the scar on his chin, the man raised his eyes to the sky as if posing the question to a greater force. He knew there was a perfectly good convoluted medical term for it but since he knew as much about medical conditions as Henry knew about advanced calculus, there was no point in attempting to explain it in a professional way. "Your mom is very special Henry; you know that right?"

Henry nodded. "Yeah she's the saviour _and _she has magic." It was easy to see how proud the kid was of Emma; he spoke about her with deep awe and admiration – not to mention the fact that, since David had really gotten to know him, Henry had called Emma 'so cool' about a million times. Give or take. Though not very skilled in kid vernacular, David was pretty sure that was a good thing.

"Right; and you know how she always _has _to know what's going on around her?" The boy nodded again with a smirk, knowing all too well that Emma was an information well who, by being sheriff, was privy to the goings-on in Storybrooke. "Well just because her body is taking a rest doesn't mean her ears are," David shared with a whisper and a wink.

Henry finally directed his gaze toward his mother, removing his scarf with his free hand in the process. He tossed the red and grey scarf onto the head of the chair and left his hand drumming against his knee. David assumed he was nervous.

"What should I say to her?"

The Prince racked his brain, clamping his lips in thought. "How about sharing a favourite memory with her? I bet she'd love to hear that."

"Yeah, okay." The kid licked his lips and threw his eyes up to the ceiling, scrunching his forehead.

"Just talk to her directly to her; as if I wasn't here," David suggested.

That seemed to help Henry who pulled his chair closer to the bed with his face pinched in concentration. David sunk back into his chair, staying quiet.

"Hey, mom. Gramps said that I should tell you about my favourite memory with you. Well, one in particular comes to mind and I think it'll surprise you. My favourite memory is when I went to Boston and met you for the first time. I remember being so excited to meet you and to tell you all about me and about your parents and who they were and about your destiny but the look on your face when you opened the door was the best part," he laughed. "You look…scared, I think. I'm not quite sure. You definitely didn't look happy that I barged into your apartment – which was nice, by the way. I've never seen so many windows in one place before. Anyway, then you said you were going to call the cops because you thought I was lying but then I asked you to come home with me…and you did. I mean, it took a little longer than I thought and there was a point where I was sure you were going to throw me back onto a bus but then you said you'd drive me. That's when I knew you liked me." He smiled mischievously, turning his head to catch a glimpse of David who was smiling along with him. Henry was clearly doing better at talking to Emma than he and Snow were. He was so natural. "And we drove all the way to Storybrooke and you started to become interested in my book and what I was saying even though I knew you thought I was crazy like everyone else did. But I knew that if you stayed in Storybrooke, you'd know that I wasn't." His tone became serious and David inched forward in attention. "I'm really happy you stayed. When you did, I felt better; like someone else cared about me other than my mom, or Archie. Or Snow – but she was just my teacher. It was like I had a new friend; someone I could hang out with and talk to. And you're my mom, too. And you're really good at it even if you think you're not. So, will you wake up for me? Please? 'Cause I want you to be my mom again. I need you to be my mom again. You deserve your happy ending."

His story was so simple yet so moving. The air was thick with emotion and David, using his parental instinct, rose from his chair, encircled the bed – slowly, because he still felt the pain emanating from his ribcage -and draped an arm around his grandson's shoulder, pulling him in close to him.

"Do you think she heard that?" the boy asked softly.

"I know she did, kid."

* * *

The clacking of boots against the linoleum floors dragged Snow from her thoughts and she snapped her head around to see a concern-ridden Ruby stalk her way down to her. It was funny to see Ruby dressed in such _different_ attire than what she donned back home in the forest and the brunette couldn't help but crack a smile at her best friend's fashion sense; leather was a far cry from her red hooded cloak. Snow rose to meet her, so relieved to have her friend here for support at such a horrible time for all of them. A loyal friend to the end, Ruby had been there for Snow through the many highs and the countless lows she had experienced in the years following their first meeting and Snow was thankful every day that she had her back in her life.

Greeting her with the warmest smile, Ruby crushed Snow in a back-breaking hug, swaying them side to side. "Um, Ruby…can't breathe," Snow choked out with a giggle.

"Oh, sorry," the woman apologised, releasing her iron grip.

Feeling Regina's icy stare on them, Snow told a hold of Ruby's wrist and guided her down the hall. "Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but how did you get down here? Whale was explicitly clear that only family were allowed."

"Like Whale could stop me from checking up on you or my goddaughter," Ruby scoffed with a smirk. "We made an agreement; he lets me see you guys as long as I promise not to eat him," she winked mischievously.

"Ruby," Snow laughed – it was nice to share a laugh even if was briefly, "you'd never eat him no matter how horrible he treated you."

"Yeah I know. But _he _doesn't know that."

The brunette rolled her eyes and shook her head at her friend's faux threat. One of the best things about Ruby was that she wasn't afraid to laugh or crack a joke or just be herself no matter how hard life tried to knock her down. Being a wolf was initially something she feared, something she was ashamed of; but now she was freer and able to see the good in what she had. And if the good happened to coincide with threatening Dr. Whale then so be it.

"How are you feeling?"

"Physically I'm on the mend; the dizzy spells seemed to have passed, but emotionally? I'm a wreck." She smiled sadly and clenched her jaw tight trying not to get any more upset than she already was. "I don't know what to do Ruby," she whispered, pulling the end of her cardigan, "there's been no change and with every minute that passes I can feel my heart constrict even further. It's like someone is just chipping away at it until it can't take anymore and it just crumbles and I…I…I'm trying to rein it all in and look on the bright side and Charming keeps talking about having faith and I just…I just can't keep it all together."

Desperately trying to console her, Ruby drew Snow into another hug, rubbing circles on her back. "It _will _be okay."

"You sound like Charming," Snow said into Ruby's jacket.

"And he's right."

The brunette remained quiet for a few seconds, piecing together the thoughts in her brain into something relatively coherent while the tears dripped rhythmically onto her friend. "It feels like…like it's not real; like it's happening to someone else, to some other family, you know? Whale checks up on us and he gives us updates and it just feels so fabricated, make-believe, and then I go into that room and I see her…" she trailed off, unleashing a timid sob, "and I know that it's real and that there's nothing I can do and nothing Charming can say that will make a difference." Waiting for her to continue, Ruby held her tighter, releasing a few tears of her own. "I don't know what I would do without her, Ruby. I mean, I know I haven't even known her all that long but the moment I remembered who she was and what she meant to me, I've never looked back; I wasn't prepared for how much I loved her."

This outpouring of despair and affection was really taking its toll on Snow and, needing to relax, she broke away from the woman and leaned back against the wall, pushing all her weight onto her legs. She had to stop this; she had to quit bearing all her feelings out for the world to see. She was just…she was just broken. That was the only way to describe the feeling that encapsulated her being and nobody else around her would ever understand that. Sure they'd supply her with enough words of encouragement and reassurances to last a lifetime but they'd never truly grasp the emotional state she was in. Charming might; but he was too good at projecting an image of being in control for anyone to notice it. No, Snow was the weak link, the one that was teetering on the brink of falling to pieces and she knew that the only thing stopping her from doing so was telling herself that Emma's heart was still beating, that she was still fighting, and that she would always fight.

Ruby's expression was compassionate and she didn't say anything for a while but she stood next to Snow and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder to mark her presence.

"Thank you for coming; it means a lot to me."

"There's nowhere else I'd rather be, Snow. You guys are my family."

As far as Snow was concerned, Ruby was like the sister she never had; that was why she chose her as Emma's godmother.

"When are they letting you go home?" the woman asked tentatively.

"Tomorrow I think. Not that we have a home to go to. How bad is it?"

Ruby narrowed her eyes and clucked her tongue. "Pretty bad," she surmised, "but don't worry about it; you guys have a room at Granny's for as long as you need it."

"Thank you," Snow smiled which invited one from her friend.

"You're welcome."

* * *

There was a light shining from somewhere. And there was a sharp pain expanding and contracting. Expanding and contracting. Constant relief and torture. Suddenly, the light got brighter and fuller, melting away the remnants of the darkness that had held her hostage. She jolted upright.

The last things she remembered was…being in the hospital? Maybe? And yet here she was in her room, back in the apartment. Her eyes darted to all four corners of the area, making sure everything was where she left it. It was all there. Every single piece of clothing and every insignificant possession. Well, maybe some important ones.

She heard voices rising from downstairs and, eager to figure out what was going on, she threw on a pair of boots that lay next to her bed and rose to her feet, clutching her side as if by holding it, her insides wouldn't spill out.

Stumbling down the steps one by one, one hand sewn to her side, the other gripping the bannister for support, she saw Mary Margaret and David laughing over the stove. The sound of her feet landing on the floor alerted them and, still giggling, they turned to face the blonde.

"Emma, are you okay?" Mary Margaret inquired, licking a spoon she was holding that was covered in chocolate.

"Not really," she answered honestly, shuffling over to the counter. "What's going on here?"

"Well Snow is baking – or should I say butchering – a chocolate cake," David said wryly, tensing himself for the blow that was inevitably to come from Snow.

"Hey!" the brunette defended, hitting him in the ribs.

"Ow, that hurt!"

"You deserved it," she teased, sticking her tongue out at him.

Emma was just confused. "When did I get back from the hospital?"

That caused her parents to stop their little games for the moment. "What do you mean?" her mother asked, tilting her head to the side.

"The last thing I remember is being in the hospital…" she trailed off as a lunge of pain throttled through her body and she leaned over the counter in agony.

"Emma!" Mary Margaret yelled, rushing to her side and holding her. "Emma, what's wrong?!"

The blonde released a scream of pain before exhaling through her teeth. "I was in the hospital. Something happened. When did I get home?"

"You weren't in the hospital. We have no idea what you're talking about," David said, rubbing her back to calm her down.

"David what are you talking about?"

Her parents exchanged worried glances. "What?" Emma questioned, the pain decreasing.

"Nothing," David recoiled, "it's just that…"

"You haven't called him David in months," her mother finished.

"What do you mean? I've always called you David."

"No, you haven't," Snow said, bemused. "You've been calling him 'Dad'."

What was going on here? "I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about." She gazed at her mother and father separately and it proved clear that it was them that were looking at her as if she was crazy. "When did we get back?" she directed at Mary Margaret.

"Get back from where?"

"The Enchanted Forest."

More apprehensive looks. "Emma, I don't know what kind of dream you've had but we've never been there together except when you were a baby. We don't even know if our land exists anymore, never mind knowing if we can get there."

"No, we fell into a portal the day the curse broke," Emma challenged. "When did the curse break?"

"About six months ago."

Six _months?_! She threw her hands over her face and tried to concentrate. Nothing they were saying was making any sense. "Where's Henry?"

"He's in Regina's. He's always there on the weekends," David informed, narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms as he scrutinized her.

"Since when?"

"Since you and Regina decided that it would be best for him to split time between here and his own home."

Everything they said was sending Emma's heart into overdrive and it pounded erratically as if it would never beat fast enough to pump the blood around her body. The pain was starting again from her core and spreading through her limbs like poison. "This is a dream," she whispered, falling to her knees. "It has to be. None of this makes sense."

Mary Margaret was by her side in an instant. "Emma please tell us what's going on," she begged, her tone coloured with concern.

The agony was increasing and she fell onto her back, her eyes facing the fan that rotated on the ceiling. "We got back from the Enchanted Forest because I used magic. Regina came over. We had a fight. I used magic again. I woke up in a hospital. I closed my eyes and now I'm here. This is a dream. This isn't reality; I'm not really here. I'm still in the hospital. I'm dreaming." All her thoughts came out in quick sentences as she felt the draw and tug of the darkness taking over her again.

Mary Margaret swam into her view; her hands holding Emma's face. "Go back to sleep. Let it take you."

"Wha-what?"

"It's going to be okay. You can go."

A tear escaped the brunette's eyes and landed on her cheek as Emma succumbed to the pain and the darkness.

* * *

Eating lunch was impossible. David sat opposite her, playing with his food and Henry was in the corner flicking through the fairytale book and sighing every now and again as if he was losing hope. Snow prayed he wasn't; they all needed to keep the faith. Whale had told Ruby that she had to leave while they were eating but that she could swing by later – much to Ruby's distaste. Her interactions with Whale were the only light-hearted moments Snow had shared the past couple of days.

God knows where Regina was. She disappeared while Henry was still in with Emma and Snow didn't question her when she asked for them to keep an eye on the boy until she came back. She probably left to get air. The hospital was stuffy as it was and add that to the fact that she was sharing the same space with two people she couldn't stand, it was quite obvious why the mayor left for a break.

Just as Snow was about to discard the rest of her food, Whale came bursting through the door into their room.

His expression terrified Snow.

"What is it?" David demanded, standing upright, ready for whatever the man had to say.

"It's Emma," the doctor replied.

Snow paled.

**Ooh, a cliffhanger! I wrote that dream sequence for Emma because, well, when am I ever going to be able to write a dream for someone while in a coma? Haha too good an opportunity to pass. I hope it wasn't ridiculous or confusing ( it _was_ a dream haha); I just wanted to try something new. Anyway, I really hope that you all did enjoy the chapter and any feedback would be so appreciated! If you have time please review and let me know what you thought :)**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hey all! Thank you all so much – you guys are awesome! This one was really difficult to write. I hope you enjoy…**

**I do not own OUAT.**

"It's Emma."

Snow paled.

"What is it?" David asked, his demanding tone fragile. Snow offered a hand and he took it without removing his stare from Whale's slumped figure.

She couldn't breathe. "Just tell us," she interjected before the doctor could open his mouth, "whatever it is; just tell us." She gulped and closed her eyes as if by not being able to see him, she was somehow not going to get hurt. Sure it was completely irrational, but she was going to cling to anything that allowed her to draw a single droplet of hope and if that meant blocking out her vision so that she didn't have to face the man who may or may not deliver the news she never ever wanted to hear, then she was going to do that.

David's hand tensed in hers.

"There was some fluctuation on the monitors," he informed them coolly – his doctor persona taking over.

"What does that mean?" her husband asked, his frustration noted by the way he squeezed her hand like it was a stress ball. Thank God she was numb, otherwise _that _would hurt.

Whale sighed and scratched his chin before shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat. "It seems that Emma has slipped further into her coma."

"Wh-what? When? How?" Snow's panic was on the verge of escalating into full-blown hysteria and while she tried to regulate her breathing, her eyes darted around the room, landing on some kind of commotion outside of the room. She arched her neck around Whale's stance to get a better view but his words snapped her back.

"Well, I-" The noise of his pager beeping stopped him short and he raised a hand in apology as he whipped out the device.

Snow felt David's touch on her trembling hands as they waited.

But as Whale's gaze rose to meet hers, she was sure that no amount of comfort would help her. The doctor's face was a translucent shade of ghost. "I'm sorry, I have to go," he asserted, heading for the door.

"What is it?" Snow cried, breaking from Charming's hold.

"Just please stay here," he ordered as he yanked open the door and rushed out to meet the oncoming traffic of nurses.

Holding her stomach as the lump in her throat enlarged, she bore herself no look at her husband or grandson for fear of what she would find in their eyes. Sounds and voices became muffled as she launched herself out of the room and down the hallway, completely unaware of how her body was still functioning well enough so that she could propel herself through the ward.

Faint thumps of footsteps behind her alerted her to the fact that her family had followed her suit but whether it was to stop her or to see what was going on, she wasn't sure. She just kept going – no, she had to keep going, had to keep watching as Whale's frame came to an abrupt halt at a room and he disappeared into it with a trail of personnel behind him. The brunette stopped. Her world spinning. She knew that room.

Emma's room.

* * *

The heat of the sun blistered her bare skin and she opened her eyes quickly, trying to catch her breath. The sun situated directly over her, the wind practically non-existent, she struggled to her feet – her body a lead weight. Robotically, she gazed around her. Storybrooke Main Street. She'd know this place anywhere; it had become a symbol of so many things to her and made her feel safe and secure.

She'd never felt worse. In fact, she was beginning to wonder if it was even possible to feel worse than what she did right now. It was such an odd feeling – it was like she was wasting away slowly. There was no way to describe the action other than it was excruciating on every level.

She looked off into the distance, feeling the urge to walk. She wasn't sure the destination but she just felt she _had _to. Something was compelling her move. To go forward.

The first move was the hardest; her legs were like two-tonne boulders. Yet somehow she managed to gain some kind of momentum, all the while her arms wrapped around her torso trying to keep everything inside of her in place. It was no easy feat. Each step was like a step closer to something truly terrible and yet she couldn't stop. She knew she had to keep going.

The street was empty – no cars, no people. Which was creepy. It wasn't until she passed Granny's that she came across the first sign of human life. Ruby was leaning against the fence, her red hood up; her Storybrooke attire forgotten as she wore what appeared to be some kind of corset dress.

"Emma!" she exclaimed as she caught sight of the blonde. "I've been waiting for you."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "Waiting for me…?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure if you were going to come. Granny was supposed to be here but she got tired and went out back to oil her crossbow," the woman shrugged and smiled as if it was the most reasonable thing in the world.

"Wait…where's _here_?"

Ruby gestured all around her. "Here," she said, kinking an eyebrow.

"Okay you're being very cryptic and while I usually enjoy deciphering codes, I'm still a little confused as to what's going on here."

Ruby held up her pointer finger signalling for Emma to wait. Confused and having nowhere else to go just yet, she scrunched her face to dull the agony she was being subjected to. Why did it hurt so bad? Turning her back to the blonde, Ruby took something off the fence and twirled around quickly to look at her expectantly.

"What you got there?"

Ruby thrust the object into the air, obviously deciding that words were optional. It didn't take long, though, for Emma to realise what she was holding.

"Where did you get this?" she questioned, taking her baby blanket in her hands and running her fingers over her stitched name.

"Granny made it for you before you were born. She wanted you to have it – just in case."

"In case of what?"

Ruby laughed as she removed the blanket from Emma's hands and draped it over her shoulders. "There. Perfect."

"Ruby, it'd be really nice if you could just be a little bit clearer as to what is going on." That didn't seem like too much to ask.

"Don't worry; it'll become clearer as you go," she advised, suddenly becoming serious. "But just so you know, I love being your godmother – even though I've never really had the chance to do that," she tagged on with a smirk and a wink.

"_Okay," _Emma emphasised in absolute bewilderment. Nothing was making any sense except for her body doing its best to buckle her knees. Luckily, she remained upright. For now.

"Now go, you still have a few more stop-offs ahead of you." The brunette backed away slowly, her eyes locked to the blonde. "Goodbye, Emma." And then she disappeared. Into thin air. Yep, thin air! One thing was for sure: she wasn't in Kansas anymore.

Or reality. She wasn't in reality anymore. This was another dream; just like when she was in the apartment with her parents.

That compulsion rearing its ugly head again, Emma continued her journey not knowing where she was going to end up.

* * *

Snow's eyes were glued open as she peered through the window into Emma's room as doctors and nurses swarmed around the blonde doing who-knows-what to her. She couldn't control the tears that tumbled down her face as she raised and pressed a hand to the glass wishing she was in there, holding her daughter's hand.

David stood next to her staring at the scene, too. He didn't say much but from his expression alone, Snow knew he was crushed. If only someone would tell them what was happening. If only she could hear what they were saying instead of trying to read their lips and their actions and their exhausted expressions. She knew it wasn't good.

Emma wasn't moving.

It was like it was a dream and she really, with every fibre of her being, wished that it was. Just this once she could just wake up in her own bed and everything would be back to whatever normal was her family.

She was wrapped up in her distress that she didn't hear Regina's arrival until a glance over to her grandson showed the boy enveloped in her arms, crying profusely. Regina held him close, not displaying any kind of emotion. Yet she did look somewhat disturbed at the scene taking place before her eyes.

_Emma_, Snow thought, _if you can hear me, just open your eyes._

* * *

Following the road, Emma grappled with the ever present pain and a fear gripped her soul as she wondered if it would ever go away…or if it was a sign for what was to come. Her head not able to cope with the weight of her blonde locks, she let it drop and trudged her way forward.

"Feeling the weight, Emma?"

With ridiculous effort, the blonde raised her head to see three men standing over her. Three men, by the way, she never thought she'd see together.

"What is going on here?" She sounded like a broken record but everything was just getting so muddled and foggy.

"Whatever you think is going on. You control this," one scoffed.

"Funny; I remember you being less annoying," Emma jibed, "and that was after you drugged me and kidnapped Mary Margaret."

Jefferson chuckled sardonically. "Always a delight to be in your company." He removed a top hat from his head and plonked it on hers. "Ah, it's a perfect fit."

"Seriously, what is going on? And why are you guys here?" Honestly, she felt like she was going to cry.

"We each have to give you something," Graham clarified.

"For what exactly?"

The three men exchanged glances before answering in unison, "It'll all become clear."

"So, what, are you all being paid to say that?"

"Sorta," Graham laughed, taking something out of his pocket. "Now, a sheriff always needs to wear her badge," he said, pinning the badge to her black top. "It's a mark of respect, a symbol of pride and honour."

She had been avoiding his gaze but now she had to shift her glance to him. To Neal. She hadn't seen him in about eleven years but he still looked the same. He smiled at her; the same smile she saw whenever she looked at Henry. "It's good to see you, Emma. You're looking…" he trailed off, probably because she looked ghoulish. Heck, she felt ghoulish. "How've you been?"

"I'm guessing you're not here to make small-talk so why don't you just tell me what you're doing here." She couldn't help but be snippy, but she was still angry with him.

He nodded his head and grinned crookedly as he held up a keychain. The swan keychain she wore around her neck. Reflexively, she reached up to her neck and felt it bare for the first time in eleven years. "I got you a present."

"How did you-"

"Why don't I put it on you? It belongs around your neck."

"So I've heard." There wasn't much more she could take of this. Her resources were exploding and she knew there wasn't much more she could take before she collapsed.

"Here." He scurried behind her and moved all her blonde locks to one side. Bringing the necklace over her head, he clasped it at the back. He didn't say anything else when he joined the others facing her.

"What about you? What did you bring for me?"

Jefferson raised an eyebrow and fixed his ascot. "You're wearing it."

"The hat? I mean, I get why I have all these other things – the blanket, the necklace, the badge - they all mean something to me but I don't see how your hat fits into the equation."

He let out a dramatic sigh. "Yes all these things mean something to you, including the hat. This hat," he walked over to her and fixed its positioning on her head, "signifies a very important time in your life. You fell through it and ended up on a wild adventure in which you became closer to your mother. The time you spent with her was very precious and you hold those memories, though some truly terrifying, close to your heart and are thankful for them each day." He sounded so bothered about the whole thing, like a disgruntled bank teller.

"You best be on your way," Graham said, stepping backward along with the other two.

"It was good to see you again, Em," Neal saluted huskily.

"Always a pleasure, Swan," Jefferson concluded before clicking his fingers and making them all vanish in the blink of an eye.

That was way too much information to digest at once but at least some things were beginning to make sense. Reluctantly and quite miraculously, her legs moved again and she was on her way – this time her body doubling over in agony.

* * *

"David what's going on? Can't you go in there and find out?" Snow pleaded, unable to take much more. Whale must have only been in there for five minutes tops but Snow honestly thought that a lifetime had passed. She couldn't stop the tears streaming down her face and the uncontrollable trembling that had taken over her body.

She just couldn't deal with it.

David never replied.

* * *

Emma was breaching the outskirts of the town and she knew in her heart that she didn't have much left. And yet, somehow, as if by magic, she was still going, still able to put one foot in front of the other. Facing the ground she plodded along only to be stopped by something in her way.

Eventually she made it upright to meet the curious glare of Mr. Gold.

"Ugh, what do _you _want?" This meeting people thing was losing its perks fast.

"Oh, don't worry, dearie. I shan't be taking up too much of your time. I'm a busy man you know."

"So I've heard."

He swayed his cane from side to side, one hand behind his back.

"So I take it you're here to give me something? That seems to be the pattern," she said, her voice cracking.

"You're quite perceptive for someone who looks like they're about to give up."

"Who said I was giving up?"

"Oh, no one. But you sure look like your throwing in the towel."

Emma rolled her eyes. "What do you want, Gold?"

He brought his arm out from behind his back to reveal a sword. Her father's sword to be exact.

"That's…" she started, marvelling at its gleam in the sunlight.

"Your father's most prized possession. The object you used to defeat the almighty dragon."

"Yeah but I don't see why I would-"

Gold handed her the weapon. "How did you feel when you held it for the first time? Powerful? Strong? Worthy? This was the first thing other than that blanket you have that belonged to your parents - it connected you with them. You felt like you belonged. And that, my dear, is a very precious feeling."

Things were starting to click but Emma still had no idea what was going on or why she couldn't stop walking to wherever it was she had to get to. She held up the blade in front of her face, admiring the craftsmanship but when she lowered it, Gold was gone and she was on the road that led out of Storybrooke.

_How do people keep doing that?_

* * *

Her legs operating involuntary, she trekked until she saw the 'Welcome to Storybrooke' sign and her blood ran cold. With effort she ground her limbs to a halt and stared ahead, completely unsure what to do next.

"Mom!"

Henry. She searched all around for sign of him and spotted a figure running through the woods towards her. "Henry?" she called, hoping he'd show himself.

He made it to the clearing. "Good," he breathed, "you're still here. I'm not too late."

"Too late for what?"

"Here," he ran over to her and handed her the book of fairytales he carried with him everywhere.

"Your book? Why are you giving me this?"

"Because your story's in there," he explained solemnly. "Flick to the last page."

Manoeuvring so that the handle of the sword was now under her arm, she did what she was told. She had destroyed the last few pages of the book back in Archie's office in what felt like years ago but now, as she flipped through them, there were new pages. Each page depicted a big event that happened since she arrived in the town even down to the time she spent in the Enchanted Forest. She ventured to the last page and gasped at what she saw.

It was a picture of her in a hospital surrounded by loved ones – all crying. "What is this?" she asked her son.

"This is the end of your story if you choose it to be."

"What does that mean?"

"It means you have a choice." Mary Margaret and David emerged from the trees to meet them in the middle of the road.

As if on cue, a spear of pain reverberated through her body and she fell onto one knee. "What kind of choice?" she strained.

Mary Margaret sunk to her level, lifting the blonde's up with her finger. "The choice to live or not."

* * *

"She's crashing!" Dr. Whale screamed over the buzz of the nurses. "She's crashing!"

Snow didn't need to be a master of lip-reading to know what he was yelling. Her legs gave way and David caught her before she hit the ground. "Emma!" she yelped as he lifted her back onto her feet.

"They'll get her back," Charming assured, "they'll get her back."

Regina tucked Henry under her arm but the kid was visibly shaking into her blazer, his sobs soft but frequent. Even Regina herself was wide-eyed as she clutched her son.

"Emma, please!" Snow created a fist and thumped the glass several times calling her daughter's name.

_This isn't happening! This cannot be happening! _

David was doing his best to restrain her but he, too, was anguished.

Whale grabbed hold of the defibrillator while the nurses prepared Emma's body. Snow threw her face into David's shoulder, unable to watch what they were doing.

"Clear!"

* * *

"I…I… I don't understand!"

"Everyone you have encountered on your way here gave you something that was important to you. Something that defines you; something that you hold dear to you and your life. These things are the components that make up who you are, who you're going to be. You can choose your own destiny, blaze your own trail. These things you are given are to help you, to guide you in making your choice. We're here to give you something, too," David announced with a sad smile.

"We're here to give you our love. There's no worldly possession we can hand you that will ever be as important as your knowledge that you are so fiercely loved. You have to believe that, Emma. We couldn't possibly be prouder of you and we couldn't love you more if we tried," Mary Margaret breathed emotionally, caressing the blonde's cheek.

"So we want you to know that, no matter what you choose, we will always love you. That's not something that will ever change. "

"And so will I," Henry interjected.

"I still don't understand," Emma whispered as the pain and the fear collided in her system. Every object she carried weighed her down and she felt like she'd never be able to feel normal again.

David got down on his knees to look at her, a single tear rolling down the side of his face. "If you decide to end the pain and cross the border, all of these things given to you stay here on this side as a reminder of who you are and of the legacy you leave behind. But if you decide fight through the pain and stay here, you have the chance to finish what you started and complete your destiny. You are the saviour, Emma Swan – the choice is in your hands."

"I know it's hard, sweetie and I know that you want the pain to go away." There was nothing she wanted more. A piercing screech developed in her ear and sent her splaying onto the ground, her body aching from the very top of her head to the tips of the toes. _Make it stop! Make it stop! _"And it's not going to be easy," her mother continued, lying on the ground next to her to look into her green eyes, "and I know that crossing the border seems like the only way to find peace, but Emma, your story isn't finished yet. Our story as a family isn't finished yet. Please stay with us."

* * *

"Clear!"

Still no response. Whale ran a hand through his hair and looked to the window to see the broken frames of Mary Margaret and David. Emma had saved them all, she was the saviour.

She had to wake up.

"Charge again!"

"Come on, Emma," he whispered.

* * *

Emma's body jolted forward, her hands grazing the border line. "Make it stop!" she cried - the pain far too overwhelming to deal with. She wanted to stay but the border was like a magnet pulling her in. "Make it _stop_!"

"Emma, please!" Mary Margaret snatched the blonde's shoulders and turned her over so that she was facing the sky. "Stay with us. You need to stay with us!"

"You can't go yet, mom," Henry begged.

"Fight it! You can do it!" David insisted.

"I don't think I can!"

"Yes, you can! You are so much stronger than you know! You are magical, Emma Swan, and you have so much within you. You can do this. Don't give in to it."

"No…I can't! It's too hard!"

"EMMA!"

* * *

Snow clenched her hands so tight that she drew blood. Succumbing to grief that had ensnared her the whole day, she let the sobs pour out of her onto her pillow, her body shuddering as each one was released. She couldn't remember a time when she had cried so much and there was nothing anyone could say or do to help her. She had to let it run its course.

It was the middle of the night. Sob after sob erupted; the pillow admirable in its quest to muffle them as best as it could. She knew Charming was awake but she knew he wouldn't say anything.

Snow needed this. Holding it all in for days was eating her from the inside out and today just caused the dam to burst. There were too many emotions to describe: fear, panic, grief, disbelief, heartache…

And relief.

Snow had never been so happy to hear the words, "She's stable" in her entire life and figured that she would never experience a moment like that again. Whale's grin was from ear to ear and if they didn't have such a weird history, she may have kissed him then and there in her elation. Charming wouldn't have approved, though. He was completely overjoyed – something the brunette hadn't seen in him since the moment he locked eyes on the blonde after twenty-eight years – and if his ribs weren't still so tender, he would have picked her up and swung her around. His ribs didn't stop Henry from attacking him in a hug, though. To see Henry go from utter heartbreak to ecstatic in the space of a breath was a real sight to be seen.

It was only until they got back to the room when the emotion of the day took its toll out on Snow and she found herself knee-deep in tears. It was all just too much to take in.

Emma's body finally responded and her vitals were back to normal. She still hadn't woken yet but as long as her heart was beating, Snow felt like she could breathe again.

* * *

"How are you feeling?" David tentatively asked over their breakfast which consisted of two slices of toast and a glass of orange juice.

"Well considering I shed about three days' worth of tears last night, much better," she smiled, spreading butter on a slice.

"I'm glad," he said sincerely, flashing her a crooked beam.

A knock came from the door and Whale entered.

Naturally, Snow tensed in his presence. Whale's updates had a habit of doing that to her.

"What is it?"

"She's awake," he shrugged with a smirk.

**Wow. That was difficult! Haha how was it for you guys? I had half a chapter written out with a completely different direction and I decided to delete it and start all over again with this idea – I just had to write it down! But it was much more difficult than I thought it would be but I really hope you guys liked it because I tried so hard to make it as dramatic as I could. As always, I really hope you enjoyed what you read and if you have time please review and let me know what you thought or if you have any feedback or suggestions please feel free to tell me! :)**


	21. Chapter 21

**Hey guys! Wow, you guys are awesome! I was so worried you wouldn't like the last chapter! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, following, and favouriting! Hope you like this one :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT. **

"She's…?" Snow dropped the plate she was holding onto her lap, her eyes pooling with tears as she drank in what Whale had said. "She's awake? She's _really _awake?" Saying it out loud was so surreal; it was what she had desperately yearned for since the moment she was told about Emma's condition and yet now, as she heard it, she didn't feel like it was real. Too many things had happened, too many obstacles flung in their way for her to truly grasp the truth.

She needed to hear it again. Just one more time. "Yes. She's awake."

As if they had planned it, both Snow and Charming tossed the blankets off them in one swift movement and jumped to their feet to stand before the doctor. Well for David it was more like a wince than a jump but the intent was there.

"Can we see her?" Charming posed, his eyes alight with expectation. He gently took Snow's hands and rubbed circles around her knuckles. He didn't look at her, but the brunette could feel the relief and hope radiating off him.

Snow whipped her gaze to Whale's eyes and waited.

"Yes you can _but_," he raised a finger so to silence them before they had the chance to form an interrogation, "I have to warn you that she is still very groggy and the medication she is on is quite strong so she'll be very confused for a while. I ask that you don't push her or ask her too many questions; let her guide you in her recovery."

"Of course," Snow asserted breathlessly, running her hand up and down her husband's arm.

Whale pursed his lips. "As her doctor I also have to mention that patients who suffer from comas or near-death experiences tend to deal with a certain amount of trauma in the aftermath of such events. I urge you both to be patient with Emma if she displays any unusual behaviour. I'm not saying that she will," he defended as Snow's eyes grew slightly wider than normal, "but as her parents I would expect you to respect the situation she's in – whatever that may be - and support her as she gets back to full health."

David straightened his stance: chin high, shoulders back. "We'll do anything to help Emma," he assured with such intense sincerity that it was impossible to question it. Snow always admired how _royal _and honourable her husband was. Even now, she found herself utterly enamoured by his love for their child and his willingness to do whatever it would take to nurse Emma back to her strength.

"Whatever she needs, we'll give it to her. We just want her to get better," Snow reiterated.

"I know," Whale smiled before checking his watch.

"Can we please see her now?" the brunette requested. She was pretty sure her skeleton was going to jolt out of her skin if she didn't get the chance to say hello to her daughter soon.

The doctor nodded. "Yes, you can. But only for a short while."

Charming brushed Snow's cheek with the back of his hand and leaned in to her a quick yet sweet kiss on the lips. "You ready?"

"Definitely." She weaved her hand through his and gave a reassuring squeeze. Noticing, out of the corner of her eye, that Whale was halfway out of the room, Snow cleared her throat to grab his attention. The man stopped mid-step and turned just enough to look back at them. "Thank you," she said with a watery smile.

He didn't respond but the understanding in his eyes as he departed made her smile.

"Let's go."

* * *

A thousand thoughts hurtled through David's mind as they made the short walk down to Emma's room. He couldn't believe that she was finally awake; not even twenty-four hours ago did her life hang in the balance and yet, somehow, by some miracle, she was back with them. It was official: Emma was absolutely a Charming to the core.

And with that overflowing elation came a bout of timidity. He was afraid to see her. Afraid because he didn't know what to say to her. When she was asleep, he could let his emotions and feelings pour out of him and tell her everything he had ever wanted to say to her but now that she was awake, he knew he couldn't do the same. Saying anything like that would only frighten her and push her away – that was the way she was. Yes they were getting to know one another but they still hadn't had the chance to really talk it out and bond the way he dreamed of, but he was aware that this 'event' had provided them with the opportunity to change all that.

So as they reached the door, David held his breath and silently thanked the gods, the universe, fate – whatever it was that saved his little girl.

* * *

Her head hurt.

Actually, _everything _hurt. She was pretty sure even her ears were throbbing.

There felt like there was some lead weight resting just over her chest, electrifying the slight air in between and making her lungs constrict – like she couldn't get enough air to traverse in and out. Dr. Whale had mentioned something about having to be revived, but Emma didn't want to spend any time thinking of that. Making herself feel worse was not part of the 'getting better' agenda.

Emma hated being bedridden. There was nothing worse than being confined to one space and being forbidden to move. Not that she could move much. The bandages that covered her supposed burns on her hands and legs were wrapped so tight – so much so, she felt ensnared by them and any attempt at moving even the slightest was monumental. But her back ached from the lack of varied position and gazing up at the cracked grey ceiling tiles was doing little for her morale; she had to at least _try _to switch it up. Sticking her tongue out in concentration, she gradually raised her arms over her head and tried to arch her back just enough so that she could shift onto her side to face the door but after several extremely non-graceful failed attempts, she gave up with a regretful sigh.

If only she could remember _why _she was in hospital. The medication the nurses pumped into her veins every few hours was doing wonders for her pain management…but not so well with her alertness. Everything was just a blur. One big million-piece jigsaw blur of images and thoughts. The first time she opened her eyes to meet the accusing glare of an overhead spotlight stirred panic in her and her heart, perhaps reminding her it was still there, thumped frantically as the fear took over. Unable to do much else she ravaged her brain for even the tiniest hint of reasonable logic – just some indication that shed light on her predicament.

But the only thing that veered to the forefront of her muddled view on life was Henry. The initial shock dissipated and moulded into a searing worry for Henry and his safety. He was her number one priority; the only thing that she could focus her energy on. And yet, her head was spinning and her vision clouded; the grogginess was in motion. Every time she opened her mouth to say something to the nurses that tended to her, nothing but hollow whispers emerged. They always replied with, "It's okay", which wasn't anything close to what Emma was asking but it still made her feel a little better.

And then there was Mary Margaret. And David.

Her parents.

She wasn't sure she was ready to face them yet.

She'd never told anyone this, but hospitals made her nervous and the fact that she couldn't put her thoughts and memories in any kind of coherent fashion only contributed to her rising unease. All around her were beeping monitors and screens that flashed numbers and made sounds whenever a certain level had been reached – not something she ever wanted to get used to. It was like they were constant reminders that she wasn't completely out of the woods yet; that her life still teetered on a cliff-edge. Not exactly the most cheering machines.

It was all too much. Waking up and finding out there was an accident and that she was burned and then in a coma and then died and revived…it was just too much. _Way _too much.

Closing her eyes, she examined the extent of her injuries by tentatively shaking each leg individually until a hot pain sparked up to her thigh. She pressed hard on her forehead with the heel of her hand at how quickly it took to breach her pain threshold. She really thought she was quite steely….

Clearly that wasn't the case.

She sucked in air through her teeth and knitted her eyebrows together as she dropped her arm to her side and muttered a list of profanities under her breath as a means of scolding herself for being so careless with her limbs. Just as she was about to throw caution to the wind and attempt her most daring move yet to fling her body to the side, the sound of breath hitching caught her attention and she looked over to see Mary Margaret and David standing agape by the door as if unsure to move closer or not.

* * *

There she was.

Emma

Her daughter.

Awake and breathing.

That simple fact wasn't something Snow had ever given a second thought to, but now, as she looked at Emma, it was almost miraculous. No, it _was _miraculous.

She brought up her hands to cover her heart as she let a few tears escape at the sight.

"Hi," Emma smiled weakly.

That was all it took – one word and Snow was over to the blonde and wrapping her in her arms. "You're awake," was all she could say. Every other word in the English language deserted her. "You're awake."

"Sort of," she replied with less kick than she usually did.

Snow reluctantly pulled away and David quickly resumed her position by pulling Emma in close to him, seemingly forgetting his healing ribs for a time. Snow could have held her all day. Actually, if she had her way, she'd never let her go again. Though, Emma wouldn't be too pleased with that plan no matter how close they had gotten.

"We were so worried about you," Charming said into her hair, the strength in his voice faltering.

"Sorry," Emma apologised timidly as he broke away to beam at her.

"Don't be; we're just…we're just…so happy to see you," Snow replied, unable to hide the emotion welling up and spilling out of her pores.

Emma slowly readjusted herself to that she was half-sitting up and half-lying down. It didn't look terribly comfortable but she didn't complain so Snow kept her mouth shut. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been hit by a bus. Or a truck. Or some horrible combination of both."

"Is there anything we can do to make you more comfortable? Anything we can get you…?" Charming asked, itching to be helpful. He moved to the end of the blonde's bed to look the blonde straight in the eye; his ocean eyes liquid as they met.

"No, that's okay. You…you guys don't have to worry about me," Emma answered, blinking uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Snow was vaguely aware that their staring was borderline creepy but she was just so lost in wonder that she couldn't tear her gaze away. She was trying to memorize all of the lines on Emma's face and read and decipher her expressions, making sure that she locked them in her mind for the rest of time; she never wanted to lose the awe that captivated her whenever she looked at her daughter.

"I think I can safely say that ship has sailed," the brunette laughed incredulously, taking Emma's hand and feeling the warmth exuding from its centre. The heat that signified her recovery. Snow squeezed her eyes shut and bit her lip deciding whether she should continue or not. Taking the persistent silence as encouragement, she opened them again and watched Emma as she spoke. "You scared us," she stated sadly, "you scared us _so _much, Emma. I didn't know fear could be experienced at this level until I saw you in here." She could feel the tears push their way to the front but she refused to let them spill just yet. "I thought my own heart was on the brink of stopping; I just can't…there's no other words to describe it other than utter terror. We thought we'd lose you again…" she trailed off as Emma dropped her gaze to the bed and let her hand go limp.

Realizing she was placing too much emotional strain on her, Snow backpedalled. "Sorry, Emma. I didn't mean to come on so strong - we're just so relieved you're awake." She let go of the blonde's hand and took a step back. Emma was obviously groggy and Snow had to be respectful of that. The last thing she wanted was to tire her daughter out more than what she already was.

"No, I'm…sorry, I didn't mean…" the blonde said sheepishly, looking down at her now empty hand.

"It's okay," Snow waved off, crossing her arms across her chest while secretly hoping that the slight sting of her daughter's rejection didn't reach her eyes. Her body could remain as nonchalant as it wanted but if her eyes showed even the smallest bit of vulnerability, her whole façade came crashing down spectacularly. But by the way Charming eyed her with a snip of amusement written on his face, she wasn't doing so well.

Emma sighed, her forehead creasing. "Where's Henry? Is he okay?"

"Yeah of course he is," David replied, encircling the bed to stand opposite Snow. "Dr. Whale called Regina; he'll be here soon."

Emma's rather subdued voice rose an octave higher, her heart rate spiking on the monitor beside her bed. "He's with Regina?"

Snow and David's bodies tensed at the sudden noise of the machine; the drone of the flatline still embedded in their memory from the night before. Although this time, the new noise signified that her heart was in fact still beating, if not more rapidly than it should be.

"Yes but he's okay," Snow soothed. "Regina has been taking good care of him; she's brought him up to visit every day and let him stay until the visiting hours were over. She's kind of been a lifesaver."

"But why is he with her? Shouldn't we be keeping him away from her? I mean, she's not exactly a saint." The blonde's voice was gravelly but her bite was back along with her maternal instincts careening into overdrive.

"We know that Regina is not exactly the most trustworthy person in Storybrooke but she is his mother and he needed to be with someone who would look after him while we couldn't. But like your mother said, she's been nothing but helpful, really – which is shocking, I know," he chuckled, bending over a little to catch his breath as a dart of pain pierced just below his healing wounds.

"She saved his life, too," Snow contributed, examining her husband for the extent of his discomfort. To her relief, he stood upright quickly and shot her one of his grateful, goofy grins. God, she loved those.

"She did?" Emma closed her eyes and methodically rubbed her face with her hands. "What actually happened?" she asked, sounding like she was on the verge of tears. Snow's heart lurched at the tone she had only ever heard on rare occasions.

"You don't remember." It wasn't a question. "To be honest, neither do we," the brunette said, trying to put her daughter at ease, "but we were told that you and Regina got into a…heated discussion and I guess you…you used magic." Snow braced herself for Emma's reaction. She knew the blonde was already worried about her magical ability and she was smart enough to know that this would only serve to solidify that fear. "But Regina cast a spell and she saved Henry. We're okay, too; just a little banged up but nothing we can't handle," she added with a wide smile, hoping to quell Emma's insecurities.

What she really wanted to do was hug her and just tell her how much she loved her, but this was not the time to do it no matter how loud her head and heart were screaming at her to go for it.

Emma didn't look worried though; she looked…completely baffled? Like someone had just spoken to her in some foreign language. Lying back down on her bed – noticeably tired, she took a moment to collect herself and her parents stayed silent, adhering to the doctor's orders by giving her time to process and not jumping in with all sorts of thoughts. "I used…magic? Is that what you said?" Her words were low and rushed, aimed toward the ceiling.

Snow tucked stray hair behind her ear at Emma's panic-stricken face. "Yes, but don't worry. We're all here and everything's okay." Choosing to find the most comfortable way to offer comfort, the brunette touched the blonde's wrist and gave it a small reassuring tug. It was little things like that that made her happy; the knowledge that Emma didn't shy away from the contact anymore was something she was so grateful for. The first time she had ever hugged Emma was when they had reunited with her and it was easily one of the most special moments she had ever experienced in her life – in any of her lives; everything after that had just been added bonuses and even as she thought of the simplicity of it all, tears pricked the back of her eyes.

As easy as it was to label the trip back to the Enchanted Forest as truly terrifying and an ultimate test of character, underneath all of the obstacles they had to overcome lay the truth that without it, Emma and Snow probably wouldn't be as close as they were. Sure getting 'arrested' by Mulan and Aurora, escaping ogre attacks and barely getting out of their encounters with Cora alive were major setbacks and moments that highlighted just how lucky they were in the safe haven that was Storybrooke, but if it were not for those experiences, who knew what kind of relationship she would have with her daughter? In a weird, twisted way, Snow looked back on their time there with sheer fondness. She was certain she would never forget the moment they shared in her nursery, or when she heard the blonde call her 'mom' for the first time, or when Emma used magic to defeat Cora in the dungeon or to send them back home through the mirror. Or when Emma told her that she loved her. Those times _meant _everything to the woman and she was sure they did for Emma, too…underneath her groggy haze.

David's voice snapped her back into reality. "_Well_," he drawled, "not everything's okay." Emma's eyes darted to him but he was quick to raise his hands in defence. "It's nothing serious, promise. But we do have to find a new place to live."

"The apartment's…gone?"

"Yes, but like Snow said, it's okay. As soon as we're allowed leave the hospital, we're gonna get right on it and find a new place. A bigger one with preferably more than two bedrooms."

"And a big yard," Snow chimed in with a grin.

"Definitely. We definitely need a big yard."

"Oh, I've got to start picking out colour schemes and we'll have to look for some new furniture…"

"A house would be the first step, honey. We work out the details after we actually get a place," he laughed lightly.

"There's no harm in being extra-prepared," she teased, smiling wistfully.

"Wait, so the apartment is _actually _gone?" Charming and Snow directed their attention to their daughter who was becoming visibly upset over this piece of news. "What is going on?" she whispered so quietly that Snow was sure they weren't supposed to hear it.

Snow leaned over and pushed hair off Emma's face, her hand lingering on the woman's crown. "Are you okay?"

Emma bit her lip, her chin quivering as she drew invisible circles on her covers. She appeared so much younger in that pose. "No. No, I don't think I am. I don't think I can do this right now."

"What do you mean?"

"I'm…I'm just really tired and in a lot of pain and my mind is one big jumble and I just need…I just need some space, I think. Everything is so confusing right now and I don't think I'm awake enough to deal with all. It's too…too overwhelming right now."

Instinctively, Snow removed her hand and looked at Emma, pained at her daughter's anguish. It was clear as day that she was suffering.

"Of course," David said, gently brushing her hand and smiling understandably. "We'll get out of your hair."

"Yeah, we'll swing by later to see you." As much as it hurt to leave her – Snow never wanted to leave her side ever again - she knew it was the right thing to do. About to plant a kiss on her forehead, she scrunched her face and clenched her fist to stop herself from doing something Emma wouldn't want her doing. "Rest up," she settled on, heading toward the door.

David leaned over his daughter, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Don't worry; I'll distract her with furniture magazines so she doesn't disturb you for at least an hour," he conspired with a wink.

"I heard that!" Snow called back, opening the door and leaving the room with a smug David following behind.

* * *

"Mom!"

Emma's eyes flung open to see her son rushing toward her in pure joy, his arms open wide. She couldn't sit all the way up, but she tried her best to ignore the pain and prop herself up on her elbows. The boy practically crashed into her and if Emma wasn't so unbelievably happy to see him, she probably would have taken heed to the searing, agonizing fire that plagued her, but for that moment, she basked in the knowledge that her son was alright. He wrung his arms around her neck and squeezed tight. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"Yeah, me too," she laughed back, kissing him just above his ear. Pulling away, he flashed a toothy grin and plopped himself down on her bed. She fell back into a lying position, her head spinning from the collision. "You're okay?" she inquired, unable to stop her maternal side creeping to the fore.

"Yeah, of course. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because well…you were in the hospital." Emma squinted in thought.

"What do you mean? I got a check-up after you were brought in but I was fine. My mom saved me." He gazed at her with some expression she couldn't read.

"Oh, yeah. Right."

"Are you okay?"

_No. _"Yeah, I'm just sore."

Henry raised an eyebrow. "I know when you're lying you know."

She sighed. "I don't remember the accident."

"Neither do Mary Margaret and David but that's just because the blast knocked you guys out," he shrugged as if it were no big deal.

"Mary Margaret said I used magic…?"

"Yeah? Look, you're new to it so it's just going to take some getting used to. Eventually you'll get the hang of it."

Emma shook her head. "Henry I don't remember _having _magic." In fact, the idea was both ridiculous and blood-curdling terrifying. How could that even be? Mary Margaret and David didn't have magic…she thought. She wasn't really sure. Everything was just so confusing!

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't remember being able to wield magic."

"But you've known for a while now," he stated, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.

"I have?" None of this made any sense.

Henry scooted closer to her. "What's the last thing you remember?" He looked deep into her eyes like he was trying to find the answer there.

Emma scoured her brain, really trying hard to pinpoint the moment as images flashed through and snippets of conversations fluttered around. "I remember…" she paused to make herself absolutely sure, "I remember breaking the curse and being engulfed in a…purple fog? I think."

"_That's _the last thing you can remember?"

Emma panicked at the way the boy looked at her. His eyes were as wide as saucers and his mouth dropped open as she gave a single nod in answer to his question. "Yeah."

**Yes, I am leaving it there! Ha still so much angst; I'm going to have to do something about that soon! Okay so I had this idea a little while ago to give Emma some kind of memory loss issues but I wasn't sure if I was going to do it because the show decided to subject poor Belle to it - and yet here I am running with it anyway! I did it in a way where Emma remembers the curse breaking but nothing after that – including the time spent in FTL with Snow…which could be interesting! If you guys don't like this idea, I'm sure I could do something to have her remember shortly! Anyway, I really do hope you enjoyed the chapter and if you have time, please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	22. Chapter 22

**Hey all! I just wanted to say a HUGE thank you to all of you who have read, reviewed, followed and favourited – you guys are awesome! I'm so happy that you've enjoyed where I've taken this story. I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

Emma watched Henry carefully as he processed her answer, still having absolutely no clue what was going on. And the fact that Henry eyed her as if she had two heads did little to calm the panic that invaded her body – her heart was thumping so wildly that she was sure it was going to explode out of her chest.

"You really don't remember anything after that?" the boy asked again, doing little to mask his wariness. He was leaning closer now and studying her eyes diligently, searching for whatever he thought it was she had lost. Emma saw the hope in his eyes dissolve when he pulled away; obviously he couldn't find it. Whatever 'it' was.

Emma threw her hands up to cover her face, scrunching her features in intense concentration. Maybe it was the medication, or maybe it was because she had just woken up from a coma but no matter what she tried to do to focus, she never got past holding her son close to her as the fog consumed the hospital room. It was like she had reached the end of a movie and that was the last scene before the credits rolled.

"No; I don't, Henry." She didn't want to sound like she was scared but there was no other way of describing how she was feeling. She didn't even _feel _like she was forgetting anything. If that made any sense. And yet, her son was telling her otherwise. "What exactly am I supposed to remember? What am I missing?"

The kid's eyes burned. "Everything!" he exclaimed, visibly upset over Emma's cluelessness. She hated it when he was upset, and even more so when she knew it was because of her. But everything ached – especially her brain – with the increasing exertion of concentration. No one should have to do think this much thinking upon waking from a deep sleep, never mind a coma-slash-almost death. Couldn't she just close her eyes and pretend that none of this was happening?

It was already overwhelming enough to know that the curse was real and that she had broken it, slaying a dragon in the process – with her father's sword, no less. God, she had a father now. And a mother. Who were fairytale characters.

_Mary Margaret, _her best friend,was her mother. Her _mother_!

Oh, more pain. She was not in good shape for this mind-bending train of thought.

"We should get Dr. Whale," Henry suggested, removing one leg off the bed before Emma took hold of his wrist.

"No, please don't, Henry. I've been poked and prodded enough to last a lifetime. I just need to take it easy and allow time to do its work."

Much to her relief, Henry brought his leg back up so he could sit cross-legged on what little space he had. She let out an audible sigh which invited raised eyebrows from the boy.

"Maybe you could give me a quick run-down of 'everything'?" she said, directing her view to her son, and smiling a little to convince him – and, admittedly, herself – that she wasn't totally freaking out. Though, by the look on his face, she wasn't doing a good job of that, either.

Freaking-out was an understatement. The understatement of the century.

"Okay," Henry replied. Flicking hair out of his eyes, he pushed up the sleeves of his sweater to just before the elbow. "Let me see. When the smoke cleared, you reunited with your parents," Emma subconsciously winced at the word 'parents', "fought a wraith, helped my mom open a portal to get rid of the wraith but then fell into it, Mary Margaret jumped in after you and you guys spent weeks trying to get back to Storybrooke. While you were there, you met Mulan and Aurora-"

"Hold on," Emma interrupted, "Mulan and Aurora? As in, Mulan the warrior and … Aurora - Sleeping Beauty?" Did she really sound as ridiculous as she felt?

"Yep. You told me you guys became really good friends."

"We did?" Emma gazed at her son incredulously. It was like she had walked into an episode of the Twilight Zone. Or Twin Peaks. Or any other television show that liked to alter what everyone knew reality to be. Against her efforts, her breathing quickened and she clenched her fist to contain her surge of energy.

"Yeah," he beamed encouraging, clearly thinking it was a pretty cool thing. "Anyway, you had to fight off ogres and face Cora-"

"Who's Cora?"

"My mom's mom. You really don't remember, do you?"

Emma shook her head.

The boy sighed. "She's a very powerful, really dangerous woman who kidnapped Mary Margaret, threw her in a dungeon and then shape-shifted into her to throw you guys off. But I guess you figured it out because you found them and that's when you…you know…when you first used magic to defeat her."

Swallowing his words, the blonde gazed around the room, seeking anything that would distract her long enough so she could catch her breath and get a handle on what Henry was saying. It sounded like it came straight out of a book; things like that did _not _happen. Ever. And certainly not to people like Emma. If she hadn't of fought a dragon and broken a curse, she would think that the kid was crazy but knowing what she did know now, there was no choice but to accept it. If that was possible.

And she had _magic! _Extremely forceful magic by the sounds of it, if she was apparently able to defeat a powerful sorceress. That was…insane. No, more than insane.

_I sound like a psycho. It's official; this is crazy. _

Sweat beaded on her brow and that pain emanating from her lower back intensified with every stern gaze she was met from Henry. He was scrutinizing her every facial expression, trying to read them and figure out if there was something there, some spark of recognition, hidden underneath the layers of disbelief.

He wasn't going to find anything.

"You know, I'm not the person you should be talking to about your time in the Enchanted Forest. Mary Margaret would be able to-"

"Henry," Emma warned as firm as she could, "I don't want to talk to her. So don't go getting any ideas about bringing her in here."

"But…why not?"

"Because she's not Mary Margaret. Not anymore."

"What do you mean? Of course she is."

"No, she's not!" She didn't mean to shout; in fact, she thought shouting was impossible considering her voice was only starting to come back. Frightening herself, she shut her eyes and exhaled slowly. "She's not the Mary Margaret I know. She's…she's…"

"Snow White."

"I was gonna say different, but sure. We'll go with that. You should have seen the way she looked at me – the way they looked at me. I've never been looked at like that before. All of sudden, she's not my best friend anymore; she's a stranger. And David? I only know him as the guy who broke my best friend's heart."

"She's your mother," the kid corrected. "And he's your father."

"That doesn't mean anything to me. Those people – Mary Margaret and David or Snow White and Prince Charming, whatever you want to call them – gave me away. They shoved me in a wardrobe so that I could come back and be all heroic and save the day, all the while not caring about how my life would be without them; how I would cope with being on my own. Because of _them, _I've been alone for twenty-eight years."

"But Emma, you've been getting past this. You're so close to your mom now and things are so much better with your dad. We were becoming the kind of family you've always wanted," he countered, blinking back tears. "You have to remember."

This was too much. What Henry was saying must have been true but that didn't mean that Emma was ready to accept it and just get on with her life as if she remembered everything; as far as she was concerned, she didn't know her parents, and she was angry at them. Truth be told, she wasn't sure when she would _not _be angry with them.

"Look, Henry, I think I need to rest, okay? It's been a long day and I'm really tired and this medication is messing with my mind; how about you call back later?" Tired didn't even begin to describe how she felt. Her eyelids were like lead weights on her face, struggling to stay open whilst the acute shooting pain in her back mixed with incessant drumming between her eyes was making this conversation even more uncomfortable and upsetting than what it already was. Time alone was sorely needed.

"Oh. Okay." He looked deflated. Emma grabbed his wrist again and pulled him into a tight hug, so happy that he was okay and that he was with her. "I'm so relieved you're okay," she whispered into his shoulder.

"I'm glad you are, too. Even if you are acting a little strange."

"Hey!" she laughed as he pulled away with a lopsided grin covering his face.

"I'll see you later, mom."

He hopped off the bed and jogged over to the handle of the door as Emma suddenly spoke, "Oh and please don't tell anyone that I'm…having trouble, okay?"

The boy's shoulders dropped but he solemnly nodded. "Okay."

Emma smiled briefly as he left the room.

* * *

Snow sat on the edge of the bed, playing with the hem of her hospital gown. Dr. Whale had come by to let them know that they could go once they had filled out the appropriate paperwork, but leaving the hospital was the last thing on Snow's mind. Charming was lying on his bed, his hands resting on his stomach and his eyes closed in what appeared to be contentment.

And why shouldn't he feel that? That sense that finally things were going to smooth over and they could all breathe for five minutes? That was all he wanted.

That was all she wanted, too.

But then how come she couldn't _feel _it? The calm that had washed over her husband like a tidal wave had failed to run its course and make its way over to her. There was just something niggling at the back of her mind, inhibiting her from fully relaxing.

She exhaled slowly, keeping her eyes firmly fixed on the floor. Emma was awake. She was awake and she was looking better. What more could she want?

And yet, Emma wasn't acting like the Emma she knew, if that made any sense – which didn't the more she thought about it. She was cagier; more withdrawn than she's been in months.

_Oh, this is so stupid! _Snow scolded herself. The blonde had just woken up from almost dying; she was bound to be confused and anxious and cautious. Anyone would be.

But she still felt like there was _something _missing. Call it mother's intuition, or best friend observation, but the way Emma looked at them and acted around them was different. She was wary.

Wary. That was the word for it. Wary with a splash of fear. She appeared frightened and uncomfortable in their presence.

Ugh, this was so headache inducing.

"What is it?"

Snow's head shot up at Charming's murmured question. "What do you mean?"

"What's on your mind? I know there's something bothering you."

"How do you know that?"

He lifted his shoulders enough to shrug. "I can feel it. I've always been able to tell when you're worried. It sort of just bounces off you."

Snow silently cursed herself for being such an open book. Though deep down, she knew no amount of training would ever repudiate that part of her personality. It was like her heart was permanently glued to her sleeve. It was both a blessing and a curse at times. "It's just Emma."

"What about her?" His eyes were still closed but the brunette could hear his tone become more serious.

"She's…different."

With a sigh, David struggled into a seating position to face her. "Define 'different'."

"I don't know; she just is. I mean, did you not see how she was with us back there? She looked at us like we were people she barely knew." Snow flung her arms into the air, annoyed at her own confusion and at how ridiculous she sounded.

"Snow, she knew who we were. If she didn't, she would have panicked and called for security right away," he chuckled softly. "She's probably just a bit confused, like Dr. Whale told us she might be. I was confused when I woke up from my coma-"

"You were confused because you weren't supposed to wake up," she pointed out candidly. "You were cursed. Emma wasn't."

"Maybe so but it could just be that she's been through a very traumatic experience and trying to figure out what that means. She's gonna be fine, Snow. We've just got to be patient and offer any assistance we can."

Charming was right – and Snow knew it. Finally cracking a smile, she stood up and walked over to her husband, wrapping her arms around his neck and leaning down to kiss him, to which he happily obliged. "You always know what to say, don't you?" she teased, cupping his cheek with one hand.

"Well, I am Prince Charming after all. The name comes with a territory."

Just as she was about to kiss him again, she heard the sound of footsteps entering their room. Turning around but leaving hand on David's shoulder, she saw Henry scuttle in and hop onto her bed.

"Hey Henry, how's your mom?" David inquired, immediately perking up as his eyes landed on the kid. Just the way his eyes brightened and his lips curled into a smile when he was around their grandson made Snow fall in love with him all over again. It was crazy to think that he could still make her feel like that after all these years – despite the twenty-eight year gap. That was true love.

Henry squirmed on the bed. "She's…okay. I think."

"She'll be back to herself in no time," he assured, standing up and walking over to him. Ruffling the boy's hair, he smiled encouragingly.

Snow arched her neck to look past Charming's frame at Henry. There was something about the way he didn't make eye-contact or crack much of a smile that alerted her.

"How was she with you guys?"

The question seemed so misplaced – so much so that it confirmed Snow's notion that something was amiss. Of course, her husband was oblivious to all this. "She was a little tired," he answered honestly, "and I think it's all a little overwhelming for her at the moment but don't worry, Emma is the toughest person I know. Even more than her mother, right Snow?" He rotated enough to take in her face.

"Right," she smiled. And that was true. Emma was incredibly strong. She knew that as Mary Margaret but as her mother, she noticed it more and it wasn't just because the blonde could manipulate the all kinds of laws of reality, it was because she had suffered so much throughout her life and made it out the other side as a better person for it. Snow wasn't sure if there were many people who could say they did that.

"Give her a few days and she'll be back to normal. Sarcasm and all."

Henry still didn't seem too convinced and using the window of opportunity available to her, the brunette jumped in. "David don't you think you should take a quick rest before we sign all the paperwork and collect our things?"

"You guys are leaving?"

"Yeah Dr. Whale thinks that we're healthy enough to go home, kid. Well, _technically _we'll be going to Granny's but anywhere is better than sleeping in that bed. I've had enough of hospital beds for a while."

Snow spoke up. "Henry why don't we go for a walk while Gramps takes a rest on the bed he loves so much?" she joked, tilting her head to the side.

"I don't need to rest, Snow."

The brunette arched an eyebrow. "Really? David you can hardly stand up straight without pulling that pain face you have."

Charming's forehead creased as he took in his wife's serious face. "What pain face?"

"You know the one: squinted eyes, clenched jaw, knitted eyebrows. The one you're wearing right now."

Visibly trying to loosen his jaw and widen his eyes, her husband gazed at her with incredulity. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Whatever you say, Charming," she beamed wryly. "Come on, Henry," she beckoned to the boy who had brightened a little with his grandparents' exchange, "let's let Gramps have his nap."

* * *

Henry and Snow walked in silence for a long time, taking random turns and discovering new wards as they went. Henry was quiet – too quiet. His eyes downcast on the floor, he grappled with the buttons on his shirt, plodding along. Snow put an arm around his shoulder and drew him into her side; she hated to see him so distracted, so lost.

She didn't want to push him, but she wanted to help and she could only that if he told her what was bothering him. "Henry, are you alright? You're really quiet."

He finally looked up at her. "Yeah I'm just thinking."

"About what?"

They passed by a few nurses that Snow recognised and they stopped briefly to trade greets and well-wishes. When departing, each nurse bowed to Snow. Being in Storybrooke made it easy to forget about her status back in the forest; she never thought people would treat her the same here. And she hadn't really experienced anything like that since arriving back to the town, so it kind of took her off-guard.

"That was cool."

"What was?"

"The way they bowed to you. I wish people did that for me."

Snow laughed lightly, hugging the boy tighter to her side. "Oh they will when you're older. You're a Prince, Henry."

The boy gasped, realizing it for the first time. "That is so cool!" he exclaimed.

"The coolest," Snow agreed.

They continued walking again, collecting their thoughts. Having Henry next to her, being a part of his life and getting to experience him growing was something Snow cherished with all of her heart. It was amazing how much she could love the boy – it seemed to grow with every passing day.

"So do you think she'll be alright? Emma?"

Snow paused mid-step to face him. Taking his arms in her hands, she crouched down to his level. "Of course she will be. What makes you ask that?"

A flash of confliction shot through his eyes and Snow's heart pounded. "Henry is there something we should know?"

"No, I was just wondering," he replied awfully fast.

She searched his expression. He was upset about something. She had known him long enough to know that much. Without questioning him further, she pulled him into an embrace and breathed in deeply. "She's going to be absolutely fine. But, Henry, if there's something that we should know about Emma, you have to tell us. Otherwise we can't help her."

"I can't tell you," he replied lowly. The brunette tried to keep her breathing regular. There was something wrong – she didn't imagine it. "I promised. But I think you should talk to her. I really think you'll help." He broke away from her, biting his lip, looking guilty.

"Does Emma want to see me?"

"I don't think so."

Snow stood up straight. That was her daughter's wish but that would not be one she'd fulfil. She had to see her; make sure she was okay. Worry would just eat at her until she couldn't take it anymore. "Well…I'm going to see her anyway."

Henry gave her a toothy grin. "I was hoping you'd say that."

* * *

Emma didn't classify herself as a crier. When she was younger, crying seemed so weak, so pointless. At the age of three when she was put back into the system, no one was there to dry her tears even though it felt like she was in a constant state of crying. There was no one there any time after that either. She didn't have many people who looked out for her or cared if she cried herself to sleep. So when she was the tender age of eight, Emma made the conscious decision not to cry – of course, it was easier said than done. Scraped knees and stubbed toes were hard to endure without a shed one here or there but anything to do with foster homes or bullies were met with nothing but a steely determination to overcome. That insistence on being strong and tough and brave got her through some of the bleakest moments of her life.

But all that steel seemed to have melted. Curled up in her covers, trying not to aggravate her burns with much movement, Emma was crying. She didn't make a sound but let the tears tumble over the grooves of her face, rolling down off her chin. There wasn't any attempt to swipe them away or to stop; she needed to cry.

Not only was she in pain, but she still couldn't remember anything that Henry was talking about. Ogres and magical lands and Disney princesses just didn't make any sense to her – actually, they sounded ridiculous. How could any of that even happen?

And then there was the teeny tiny fact that she had magic and had used it, the result being admittance to hospital…and almost dying. She lifted her hands into her eyeline, examining them as if seeing them for the very first time. Her chin quivered as she put them back down, her body starting to shake with emotion.

Too much. It was all too much.

Mary Margaret and David were Snow White and Prince Charming – and her parents. She was the daughter of one of the most iconic fairytale couples and, according to her son, she was close to them. Or at least close to getting close to them.

But that was just too…too… Ugh, there were no words for that! How could she be so close to them after they abandoned her? After they left her to fend for herself? Because of them, Emma had endured hardship after hardship, doing anything she could to get by, hoping that one day her parents would show up with the best reason as to why they had to send her away. But they never showed. Yeah sure they were cursed – that was a pretty good reason, but because of them, Emma never felt worthy of love or of happiness. The only thing she knew growing up was that her parents sent her away; that was the only truth that stayed with her every day of her life. Every day for twenty-eight years.

She was alone.

Closing her eyes again and releasing all those years of bottled tears, she let out a defeated whimper. Her hands and legs shook, unable to handle the outpouring of emotion. The lump in her throat almost too much to bear.

And then she felt it. A soft heat brushing across her cheek, wiping away tear after tear as they fell. Emma opened her eyes.

Mary Margaret was there.

* * *

She thought she was going to fall apart. The sight of Emma crying, despairing, was enough to snap her heart in two. She pulled in the waterworks, recognising the need to be strong in the moment. But it was clear to see that Emma was broken. Her beautiful, strong-willed, amazing daughter was broken.

She could feel Emma flinch slightly away from her touch but Snow wasn't going to move her hand. She wasn't going anywhere.

Snow didn't speak and neither did Emma. The brunette just let the woman weep, continuously wiping away her heartache with her thumb and holding her other hand in hers. There were no sounds other than their breathing and the soft hum of the machines.

After a while the tears stopped and Snow tucked a blonde lock behind Emma's ear, hoping to find answers for her daughter's distress. "Are you okay?" she asked tenderly.

Emma sniffed. "I…I don't know. Maybe."

"Can you tell me what's wrong? Maybe I can help-"

"You can't," Emma interrupted solemnly, turning her face away from her mother's touch. Snow slowly brought her hand up to her neck. "I'm fine; you don't have to worry."

"I wish you wouldn't say that."

"What?"

"Don't say that I don't have to worry. That's like telling me not to _breathe. _After everything we've been through, do you really think that I'll be able to stop worrying about you? Emma, you're _my daughter_. Please don't shut me out."

The blonde scrunched her face in deliberation. Snow didn't like the look of this. Emma batted away a lone tear that had trickled down to the edge of her mouth and took a deep breath. "I don't remember…I don't remember anything after the curse breaking."

Snow's breath caught in her windpipe and she swallowed hard, trying to understand what Emma was saying. Her hand trembled at the base of her neck, her legs suddenly weak. "You don't?" Even to her, her voice sounded so small, so meek.

Emma shook her head. "I remember the purple fog and Henry being next to me and then waking up in here."

The blood drained from Snow's face. Her hands went numb. Emma didn't remember reuniting with them. Or falling down a portal. Or being in the Enchanted Forest. Or spending time with her - or with David. None of it.

_That _was the moment her heart broke fully in half.

**So what did you all think? So much angst! Haha I really hope you guys enjoyed it even if it wasn't very fluffy. If you have time please review and let me know what you thought! :)**


	23. Chapter 23

**Hey! Thank you all so much – I'm blown away by the response these past few chapters have received! Hope you guys like this one!**

**I do not own OUAT.**

The silence following her little revelation was deafening. Deep down she knew it was the right thing to do but the way Mary Margaret's face twisted in grief had the power to still her rampant heart. There was no choice in the matter; Emma couldn't pretend that she was okay and that she knew exactly what everyone was talking about. It was better to tell her herself than have her find out later by some misunderstanding or slip-up on her part. She still harboured a load of anger and resentment, but if there was one thing Emma was not, it was cruel and stringing her parents along fell into that category.

Mary Margaret grabbed the top of the chair next to the bed for support, her frame looking more fragile than ever before. Even the sight of the brunette in emotional pain brought a film of tears to Emma's eyes and she felt the urge to console her. But she was lost. What could she possibly say to fix the situation; or, at the very least, make it better somehow? Words hardly seemed like enough – but they were all she had right now.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, unable to look at her friend anymore.

It didn't seem like much but the sentiment snapped the woman out of whatever haze that had taken her over and she leaned forward, careful not to touch the bed. "What for?"

"What do you mean?"

"What are you sorry for?" She wasn't angry or upset – she was curious.

Emma shrugged. "For…eh…I…forgetting, I guess." It was silly; she sounded like a kid trying to come up with a good reason that would pass parental scrutiny.

"Oh, Emma, don't…don't apologise. It's okay. It's not your fault," she said with as much conviction as she could muster – which wasn't a lot. Part of Emma believed that she was saying aloud for herself more so than Emma. She was a woman on the brink of emotional meltdown – holding it in with so much effort it looked as though it would be the end of her.

It was only really then that Emma let her thoughts drift in wonder at what had actually transpired between the two of them outside of just being Mary Margaret and Emma. Outside of just being ordinary citizens of Storybrooke. They were mother and daughter. And right in that moment in the hospital room, among the tubes and machines and medication, Emma felt something, albeit rather small like a flicker, of the bond they had that ran deeper than mere friendship. They were family.

The mask of heartbreak that Mary Margaret wore only manifested that notion.

Unfortunately, not having any kind of memory or picture of anything to connect that feeling to left Emma completely in the dark, floundering in bay of confusion. Yes there was _something_ but not enough for her to release her grip on the walls that guarded her so well for as long as she could remember.

"Mary Margaret I-"

"No, you don't need to say anything more," the brunette interjected, trying to smile – and failing. "Like I said, it's okay." She paused to wrap her arms around her body, not sure of what to do with her hands. "You should rest; it's been a long day and you need to sleep."

"I'm not that tired," Emma asserted, though that couldn't have been further from the truth. Yet, she felt she had to say it. Maybe she wanted to say it. All she knew was that seeing her friend so upset made her stomach knot.

"Yes you are," Mary Margaret laughed sadly. "I can see it in your eyes. Plus, you'll feel much better when you do. I think I'll take a walk, clear my head for a little while."

Emma nodded. "Oh. Okay, then."

The brunette moved away from the bed, Emma watching her every move. Suddenly, she stopped, took in a deep breath and twirled back around to face her. "If you need anything, anything at all, you tell us, okay? I mean it; if you're unwell or in pain or whatever, just please let us know. I can't guarantee that we won't be checking up on you like crazy but just don't be afraid to talk to us. About anything. We're not going anywhere. Well, we're being released today but we're gonna be here every day for as long as it takes." All of her words came tumbling out of her mouth in a rush almost as if she thought that if she didn't get them out now, she'd never do it. "We care about you, Emma. Infinitely more than you think we do."

She swallowed, breathing in the affection loaded in each word. She didn't say anything, mainly because every word she knew had disappeared. Mary Margaret stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on Emma's and, leaning over, brushed back strands of hair that fell on the blonde's forehead, resting her hand ever so slightly on her cheek. But as soon as it was there, it was gone and she pulled back quickly, eyes squeezed shut, as though she was inwardly cursing herself for doing such a thing in the first place.

"I'll see you later," she whispered and then left before Emma had a chance to say anything.

* * *

The hallway was cold and dark – much darker than it should have been for the afternoon; not a soul wandered the corridors. Keeping her arms tight against her body, Snow quickened her pace though she wasn't sure where she was going. She just wanted to walk.

When she was out in the forest in her corner of solitude secretly pining for David, she would walk and walk for hours and hours on a specific trail she had set, hoping that the peaceful wilderness would somehow calm her soul and block any thoughts of him from her mind. Sometimes it worked, but mostly, she found herself walking and wishing. Wishing and walking. Wishing that he was there and talking to her about absolutely anything. She just wanted to be with him and listen to him. And every day she hoped that maybe he would find her like he promised. Walking was the only thing she could do to keep her from going insane.

Even back in the forest with Emma, walking was her way of trying to figure out what to do and how to deal with being back at home whilst trying to navigate her relationship with Emma. It provided her with the means to clear her head, to shut out all the buffer and just focus on what was important.

So all she could do now was walk.

She moved faster around the corners, narrowly avoiding chairs and carts and anything else in the way. Her vision blurred with tears, she rested against the wall by the main door, not ready to brave the outdoors. Rain was falling in sheets, the wind blowing it sideways, throttling the glass doors. It was as if the weather was picking up on Snow's mood.

She didn't want to cry. Her daughter, whom she loved with all of her heart, was alive and well – shouldn't that be enough? The answer was simple: yes. But no matter how many times that repeated in her head, she wrestled with the ache in her heart and soft sobs that stemmed from her core.

Emma didn't remember they're time together. She didn't remember the quiet moments they had shared that led to them becoming closer. Emma was finally opening up and willing to be a part of their family – in fact, she wanted it, and now…now all that was gone.

Snow leaned back, resting her head against the wall, her sobs racking her body. She flung her hands up to cover her face, letting the darkness consume her briefly. This news had cut through her like a blade, leaving nothing but a gaping hole in her heart. In a way, Snow felt like she had lost Emma again.

They were back to square one, with Emma withdrawn and cautious and reticent. Snow could see the steel in her eyes, the resentment that flared beneath the surface. The Emma that had been with her the past few months had been replaced with the guarded woman Snow had come to know as her best friend and while every inch of her maternal instincts were screaming at her to wrap the blonde in her arms and explain to her how much she loved her, maybe giving her a little space was what she needed most.

"Snow, are you okay?" She brought her hands down from her face, wiping away the tear stains in the process. Dr. Whale was holding a medical chart but he tucked it under his arm when he registered how upset she was. "What's the matter?"

She didn't have to tell him but he _was _Emma's doctor and had to be told about her condition. "It's Emma; she doesn't remember," she said, her voice wobbling, her hands shaking uncontrollably.

"Here," he soothed, ushering her over to the waiting area, taking a seat. "She doesn't remember anything?"

"No she does, but anything after the curse breaking is gone," the brunette sniffed.

"I see." He whipped out a pen from his shirt pocket and scribbled down something illegible on the page in front of him.

"But this is just a side-effect of the coma, right? She'll get it back?"

Whale put down the pen and crossed his arms, leaning forward. "Like I said earlier, Emma has been through quite a traumatic event. And, the thing is, we don't know what happened to her in those moments; we don't know what she might have seen, what she might have experienced - only she does. What a person experiences in those brief moments can have a profound effect on them when they do wake up. Short-term memory loss is quite a common occurrence actually with this particular issue and the good news is that the majority of the time, their memory does comes back."

Snow gazed at him expectantly. "So you're saying that she'll remember soon?"

"I'm saying there's a strong possibility that she will regain anything she has lost within a relatively short period of time. But we'll have to keep tabs on her and record any kind of fluctuation in brain activity."

"So what do we do?"

"Talk to her," Whale suggested, rising to his feet. "Tell her stories, fill in the gaps. The slightest thing could trigger her memory. But most of all, be patient."

With a departing nod, he left her alone with her thoughts in the chilly waiting area, wondering what to do next. Standing up, she patted down her gown and steadied her heart before walking back to her room.

She needed to see Charming.

* * *

Falling into a deep enough sleep that her thoughts couldn't weigh heavily on her and ravage any slither of peace she had left was proving impossible. Every time she closed her eyes, Emma pictured the broken Mary Margaret that stood by her bedside, struggling with what to do or say. Just seeing her like that…well, it was beyond difficult. And knowing that she was the one to inflict the pain was worse.

As much as the situation frightened and bewildered her to the point of thinking it ludicrous, she had never tried so hard to remember anything in her life. In all the tests she had taken throughout her life, this was by far the hardest. The thing was, every time she really focused – blocking all else out of mind – there was a soft pull of memory; tiny particles of moments all sprinkled around, without any coherency or pattern - which wasn't enough. It was one of those feelings where it was all on the tip of her tongue and then in a breath, all gone like a gust of wind.

It was so frustrating but yet still so comforting because Emma _knew _that it was still all there. Somewhere. Waiting to be unlocked by the key. If only she knew how to do that part.

She pulled the covers up to her neck, suddenly taken over by a chill. The medication was wearing off and she was feeling the effects of being burned and virtually having zero energy to run off. It was surprising that her body was still functioning – though in fairness, it was doing so at a much slower rate than she thought possible. Emma hadn't felt so bad in her entire life and knowing that she had a long road ahead to recovery only made her body cry out more.

Maybe she could try to sleep now…

"Emma, how are you feeling?"

She groaned, her eyelids glued shut for the time being. She didn't need them open to see who it was. Whale. "Super," she deadpanned, and irked as he pressed down on the center of her palm.

"Still tender, huh? Well it should only be a few more days until the pain subsides substantially. Can you open your eyes for just a minute?" She felt his hand on her shoulder and reluctantly relented. "Good." Pulling out the torch from his pocket, he shone the light into each eye, examining her right one closer than her left. "Okay, good. Now for the hard part." Emma tensed slightly. She had a feeling what was coming next. "Can you sit up for me?"

"If I said 'no' would you leave me be?" Her tone was playful but she really wanted him to say yes. The thought of having to haul herself into some form of seating position made her want to throw up. She couldn't even manoeuvre to the side, never mind upright. It's not like she was some kind of superhuman.

"How is your movement?"

"It's non-existent. My back refuses to contribute to the cause."

"Well that's natural. Give it a day or two and you should see a big improvement." In a swift action, he removed his stethoscope from around his neck and had a listen to Emma's chest. "Breathe in." She inhaled deeply and held it for what felt like forever. "Breathe out." He didn't have to ask her twice. She repeated the action three more times before he pulled away and re-hung the instrument around his neck. "It would seem that you're recovering at a good pace and hopefully you will be back to normal in no time."

Emma scoffed. "I don't think normal applies to me. I'm not sure normal even exists anymore."

"Maybe it never did," he offered conversationally. Something in Emma's expression encouraged him to continue with his line of thought. "I mean, what is normal? Here, in Storybrooke, there are all types of characters roaming about with two conflicting lives in their heads. We may not be exactly used to it, but that has become the norm to us. That's what we deal with – day in, day out. Whatever your situation is now, I can tell you that soon it will become normal to you. Whether you choose to believe that or not."

The blonde brought an arm out from underneath the blanket, laying it gingerly on her stomach and raising her gaze to the ceiling. "I've been experiencing some memory issues," she confessed.

"I know."

Emma arched an eyebrow, a sly grin on her lips. "Let me guess: Mary Margaret told you?"

The doctor sighed. "She was worried; she wanted to know if it was a side-effect of what you went through."

"Is it?"

"More than likely."

"Will it come back?"

"Yes I believe it will."

She drummed lightly on her stomach. "How long?"

"Now that I don't know. Could be hours, days, weeks… It'll come back when you're ready. Now, try to get some rest; I imagine you'll only have a short while before your family come and visit again."

Emma didn't watch him leave but the faint sounds of his footsteps alluded that he did.

Before her family came to visit again.

_Family_.

_Again._

What a strange concept for her to wrap her head around. She had a family now. Her parents had been found, her son was safe and apparently she was on route to fulfilling her destiny. It was all so crazy, so unbelievable that she thought she was dreaming.

Dreaming.

Something tugged at the back of her mind. A dream, maybe.

A dream?

She squinted in concentration trying to make sense of the feeling.

But nothing came. No amount of face pulling was going to break through.

Yet as she closed her eyes, her fear and anger lessened, and a fresh determination rushed to the fore.

She was going to remember because…because she just had to.

* * *

"There you are," David smiled as he caught sight of his wife in the doorway if their hospital room. "I thought you'd run away," he joked as he strolled over to her to plant a kiss on her forehead.

"Not yet," she replied with a timid smile. Her teases usually had a bit more bite but he thought nothing of it as he went back over to his bed, putting his personal items into a backpack. "Where did you get the clothes?"

He looked at what he was wearing: a pair of jeans, a white undershirt and a blue, long-sleeved top. "Regina came by to pick up Henry and I guess he told her to pick us up some clothes on the way. Yours are on your bed." He gestured to her bed and watched as the sun's rays seeped into the room framing her face so perfectly. If he could freeze that moment he would have. She was so beautiful.

"Regina _bought _us clothes?"

"Well I don't really know. Maybe Henry had already picked them out and she just collected them?" He hadn't given much time to how Regina had acquired their things but now that he thought about it, it was pretty strange.

"I hope so because the idea of Regina shopping for me makes me nauseous." Snow walked over to the bed and held the sweater in the air as if inspecting it for contamination. All David could do was smirk.

"So where'd you go? Henry said you went to see Emma but that was ages ago."

"I went for a walk."

"Oh."

Snow spun around to face him. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"Don't play games with me, Charming. What was the 'oh' for?"

He slowly perched himself onto the edge of his bed, running a hand through his sandy hair. "It was nothing. A simple, innocent reply." The brunette's eyes contracted hastily as if they were trying to suck the life out of him. He recognised the need to elaborate. "It's just that you only go for walks when you're trying to figure something out…usually after something has gone wrong." As much as they both were aware of that truth, the man prayed that it wasn't anything too serious. He wasn't sure if he could deal with anymore kind of bad news.

She let out a heavy sigh – never a good sign. "Emma…"

"Yes…?" He rose to his feet in misplaced anticipation, probing her to finish. Although hiding the immediate ache in his chest whenever Snow started a sentence like that when it concerned their daughter was never one of his strong suits.

"She's…having trouble remembering certain things." A pang of dread shockwaved around his body at his wife's lost expression. The heartache was evident in her voice.

"What kind of things?"

Her eyes met his. "Anything after the curse breaking."

His heart skipped a beat. "Anything?"

Snow shook her head.

Running a hand over his face, leaving his hand resting on his chin, he calmed himself knowing well that Snow needed him to be strong for her. "But she knows who we are?"

"That we're her parents? Yeah, she does." There was some good to take with that at least.

"She's just not ready to accept that yet." Even though he had a long way to go with Emma, if there was something he knew about the blonde, it was that she wasn't going to automatically dive into the situation with enthusiasm. That much he had learned from their reunion.

And now they were back in that place.

And they probably totally freaked her out when she first woke up.

He closed his eyes at the thought of how uncomfortable Emma was around them; backing away, not making eye-contact, talking minimally. Snow was right; there was something more going on behind the scenes.

"Not really, no."

"Did you talk to Whale?"

Snow stood up and closed the gap between them, wrapping her arms around his waist, her head tilted toward him. "He thinks that it's only temporary," she explained.

"Well that's good isn't it?" He tightened his hold on her. "Everything will be okay, Snow." It wasn't hard to read the pain shimmering in her green eyes and as he brushed hair behind her ear, he leaned in to kiss her lips softly. "She'll remember."

Emma not remembering them or the relationship she had with them was painful enough, but David knew that her forgetting the time spent with her mother in the Enchanted Forest was like ripping Snow's heart out. He was amazed at how she was holding it all together; her quiet strength helping her cope.

"She has to," she whispered into his chest.

"Hey why don't you get dressed and we'll stop by her room again before we go to Granny's?"

It was almost as if he could feel her deliberation shudder against him. "I think it'd be best if you go and see her alone. I'll get ready and go and get our room at Granny's and meet you there later."

She started to pull away but he grabbed her wrist and pulled her in for a longer kiss, drinking in her presence. "You sure you don't want to see her?"

"It's not that I don't want to, I just feel like I need to give her some space. I feel like I'm smothering her and I don't want to push her or make her uncomfortable. I think it's best if you just go for now." Her fingers danced along the scar on his chin, his skin heating under the soft touch. She pressed her lips against the mark and then turned her back to him, unfolding her clothes pile.

Charming hated to see Snow so upset but he knew that there was no point in pressing the matter, not until she had some time to thoroughly think it all out. "I'll see you later, then," he said, rubbing her shoulders before quietly leaving the room.

* * *

A knock on the door forced Emma to break from her half-slumber and she looked over to see David leaning on the door frame rather awkwardly like he was prepared to duck away if she refused him. Even though the thought of him as being her father made her weak and sort of uneasy – that was the only way she could describe it – she couldn't turn him away. Especially if she wanted to remember.

"Are you gonna come in or are you just gonna stand there?" Wow she sounded tired.

David smiled. "I thought you'd never ask." He made his way around the side of her bed and took a seat.

Emma didn't know what to say. What could she say to her father she hardly knew and who was the same age as her? "I see you're out of your hospital gown." She was pretty sure that wasn't it.

"Yeah, we finally get to leave," he laughed once.

"I wish I could leave."

"Ah, you'll be out of here in no time. I just hope we have a place by then."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Emma's body stiffened. It was not that the idea didn't cross her mind but to hear him make reference to them all living together just took her off-guard. She assumed that the arrangement they had prior to this hospital stint was all of them under one roof but that didn't mean that she had sufficiently gotten to terms with it just yet.

"I'm sorry; I…I didn't think."

"No, it's okay. I'm just trying to figure it all out, I guess. It's a lot to take in."

"I know and I'm sorry that we're not really making it any easier on you, we're just worried. We weren't prepared for something like this happening."

That something was her memory loss. Emma appreciated his soft approach to the subject with a tentative brief smile. "Where's Mary Margaret?"

David sat up straighter. "She's gone to get our room sorted at Granny's and pick up a few things we need. She, eh, she…didn't want to crowd you."

"I upset her. Earlier, when I told her. She looked really hurt."

His blue eyes were so clear. So gentle and safe. And the way he sat back, relaxed, trying not to spook her was a nice change. "Well that's because she is, but it has nothing to do with you. It's not your fault. It's just that…you guys had become so close because of the time you spent together back home and that time meant a lot to Snow. More so than any of us thought. I mean, you guys weren't happy families just yet but there was so much progress made. With both of us. It's hard to see that go, that's all."

It was obvious that he was barely holding in his tears but Emma wasn't sure of what to say. She was just lost.

"You wanna know a secret? I was a little envious of you and Snow."

"You were? Why?"

He clasped his hands together, his gaze fixed on them. "Because you already had a relationship with her – you were best friends. I was the guy that broke your best friend's heart and made wrong decisions at _every _turn. We never got to know each other the way you guys did. And then, you found us and I thought that maybe we would get a fresh start and go from there but then you both went through the portal and shared all these, from what I hear, terrible experiences that somehow brought you closer together. I didn't get to share them with you. We never got to bond, to be the father-daughter duo that I dreamed we could be. But we were getting there – slowly." He finally met her eyes. "Actually, you were the one to initiate our first real hug."

That caught her attention. "I did?"

"Yep. I told you I missed you and you hugged me. It was one of those moments I'll cherish forever. Oh, and then you collapsed."

"I did what?" Her head shot up and he smiled crookedly.

"Just fell right on the floor, scaring the life out of your mother and I. Magic was already taking its toll on you in a big way and of course, we were naïve enough to think that as long as we kept an eye on you, there wouldn't be any more of those instances. And we were wrong," he chuckled melodiously. "We'll have to work out some kind of rules for your use of magic. Maybe limit it to the weekends or set a rule that states that you can't use it past nine or something. What do you think?"

Despite herself, Emma laughed and she realized it was the first time that she really laughed since waking up. It was nice feeling. "That's probably best," she yawned; the tiredness creeping its way back in.

"I better go, you need to sleep," David said, standing up but looking as if there was something else he wanted to say. "Emma, I know you don't remember so I feel like I should tell you this." The blonde waited. "I know you've had a rough life and that you've been alone because of a choice we made to protect you and for that, we will _always _be sorry. Sometimes words don't seem like enough but we _had_ to save you from the curse – who knew what Regina might have had in store for our baby? For you? We had to give you your best chance. We didn't want to put you in the wardrobe, we didn't want to send you away; all we knew was that we would do anything for you, that we would protect you no matter what. We love you, Emma. We always have and always will and I hope and pray that you never forget that."

Tears sparked at the back of her eyes as she allowed him to brush her cheek with the back of his hand. There was nothing – absolutely nothing – she could say back to that. It was completely familiar and completely alien to her all at the same time. But she believed him and that was what mattered most.

**Okay so how was it? Did you guys like it? I really hope you all enjoyed it and if you have time, please review and let me know what you thought :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**Hey all! Sorry this one was a little later than usual! Life has been…well, a bit weird lately! Ha oh and thank you all so much – you guys rock! I hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

Outside the light faded into a sinister twilight as Snow stared at her reflection in the mirror in their room at Granny's. The longer she stayed looking at it, the more frustrated she became. She had enough of mirrors, had enough of seeing her worn expression glaring back at her.

David would be back soon from the hospital. He called her earlier when Ruby had taken her out to buy a few more outfits and told her that he was going to swing by the apartment on his way home and see if there was anything worth salvaging but she knew he'd be at the door any minute. And she couldn't wait to feel his strong embrace, holding her body - and maybe even her heart – in place. She _needed_ to feel it.

The rain had finally ceased, coating the pavements with its slick layer but the perturbed deep grey of the sky indicated that there was more to come. Tumultuous clouds hovered just above the buildings as if waiting for the right moment to come down and smother the town in an all-consuming invasion.

Storybrooke had never looked so miserable before.

Snow turned her back on the mirror, her shoulders hunched as she left her hands latched to the edge of the dresser on which it was mounted, and gazed around the room. There wasn't much to the space; aside from the mahogany dresser and the double bed dressed in floral, there was a small wardrobe next to the window and a few pictures that seemed to depict nothing at all, topped off with a distressed wine carpet.

And yet even though she was alone, there was an odd comfort emanating from the cream walls that made her feel safe. Warm.

Grateful didn't even begin to describe how Snow felt at being given a room to stay until both she and Charming found a place for their family. That is, if Emma even wanted to live with them. She wasn't sure of much anymore. It was safe to say that Snow had been thrown off the track, her world tilted on its axis as soon as Emma confessed to forgetting. She didn't want to feel upset or angry or whatever else she was feeling throughout the course of the day, yet she couldn't help it. She just felt so helpless and there was no other feeling she hated more.

Snow was a survivor; someone who learned how to fend for herself and fight her own battles – she was a fighter. Pro-active. Always thinking, always finding ways to fix a situation and help someone. Except this time, she wasn't sure what she should do. Whale suggested talking to Emma but she couldn't guarantee that she wouldn't burst into tears as soon as she laid eyes on her.

She stumbled over to the bed, tripping over her own feet. Great, now she couldn't even walk anymore. She allowed herself to fall backwards and let her body rest against the soft mattress, her fingers brushing through her short raven hair. Her eyes perused the cracked magnolia ceiling as if looking for answers when she heard the lock shake and the doorknob twist.

Jerking upright at the sound, the door swung open to reveal a sheepish Charming holding his hands in the air as though in surrender. "Sorry," he mumbled with a slight grin, "Ruby gave me the extra key. I should have warned you first."

Sighing, Snow fell back onto the bed.

"I take that means I can come in."

The door closed and her husband shuffled over to join her, flinging his key, jacket and a bag onto the ground and crawling beside her. It was reminiscent of their times back at the palace; on more than one occasion Charming had walked into their bed chamber only to see Snow lying on the bed, staring into space in her own little worry bubble. He would just lie next to her and take her hand until she was ready to talk.

As if on cue, she felt his rough fingers weave through hers. Knowing that something as simple as that could bring her comfort, Snow dragged her thumb across his knuckles, feeling the physical reminders of the turbulent life they once led. "How is she?" she whispered, turning her head to look at him.

"Receptive," he replied with a ghost of a smile. "She's really tired and I think she's still in a lot of pain but she's not as far away as I thought she would be. There's something there, however small that may be, I don't know, but it's something."

Snow nodded profusely, drinking in his words. "What about the apartment?"

David reached over and ran a finger along her jaw. "It's pretty bad," he whispered.

Her eyes became glassy. Her home was gone. Of course she had known that but it was one of those things that she cast to the back of her mind while they dealt with Emma that now had to be addressed. Though it was only small and often had its fair share of problems like its lack of ability to retain any kind of heat or have hot water on occasion, it was still the place where she had spent twenty-eight years of her life. The apartment was hers; it was home.

And now it was gone.

A tear trickled down her face and she immediately batted it away, feeling foolish.

"Snow, it's okay to be upset about it. It was your home."

"I just feel silly. I know it was just a tiny apartment but it was where I lived, you know? I ate there. I slept there. I had some great moments and some not-so-great moments in all the time I spent there. It was the one place in Storybrooke that was mine, that was just for me and no one else. It's just kind of surreal to think of it as being gone." She sniffed and pouted as another tear spilled. "I don't suppose there was anything left?"

"It was hard to see with the light today so I've rounded up the dwarves and we're gonna go first thing in the morning."

"Okay, good." Snow turned away and placed a hand over her face as she thought of all the things the fire had most likely incinerated. Images of random objects swam through her mind, none of them particularly sentimental but still things she had collected over time, possessions that she had acquired through whatever means that belonged to her and the life she had led for a lifetime.

"I did manage to find one thing though," David declared, stretching away from her and extending his free arm over the edge of the bed to grab the bag on the floor. "It's a little rough around the edges but I think it's in pretty good shape all considering."

Snow sat up to get a better look. David unzipped the bag and rifled through its contents until he pulled out a dusty picture frame. Without a word, he pulled himself upright and handed it to her.

Snow's eyes widened. "Oh my…" she breathed.

She couldn't believe it. The picture of her and Emma that sat on the kitchen counter had survived the blaze with barely a scratch. With a cloth and some elbow grease, it would be as good as new. Almost as if nothing had happened to it.

She wondered if it was some kind of a sign.

Her fingertips traced the outer rim of the frame, her eyes glued to the happy expressions each woman wore, remembering what felt like a much simpler time.

"You know, I couldn't find anything else," David said softly, placing a light hand on the small of her back while the other hugged his side. "That," he pointed to the item in her hands she was clutching onto for dear life, "was the only thing – that I could see – that was still in one piece. It was just sitting on top of a pile of ash next to the beat-up counter. As soon as I saw it I knew I had to bring it back to you; you needed to be reminded of something very important."

"And what's that?" She finally peeled her eyes away to look at the man.

"That Emma loves you. Regardless of anything else you think right now at this moment in this room, she loves you. And I assure you that she has long before the curse was broken. Long before her past caught up with her." He leaned over to press his forehead to hers. "You _need _to remember that. You're a passionate person, Snow; you feel things on a deep level, but if there's one thing you don't let your emotions do, it's stop you from moving forward." Pulling away to kiss her forehead, he caressed her cheek, gazing into her eyes, into her soul. "Don't let this be the first time something has stopped you. See her. Talk to her. Be there for her. Be her friend, Snow. That's what she needs right now. If anyone can break her curse, it's you."

She closed her eyes momentarily in acceptance. Charming was right – Emma did love her. Though she had never verbally expressed that sentiment to her while they were roommates, it was obvious that she cared a great deal about Mary Margaret; _that_ perhaps best shown through the blonde's endless attempts to clear her name after_ that_ Kathryn incident that Snow would rather not dwell on.

But it was truth.

Snow readjusted herself on the bed, pulling her legs up so that she was kneeling in front of David. "So that was your speech, huh?" she asked with a wry smile.

"Pretty much. How'd I do?"

"Surprisingly good."

"_Surprisingly _good?" he questioned, arching an eyebrow at his wife.

"Well I think it was a refreshing change from your 'I will always find you' speech. I'll be happy if I don't have to hear that one again!" she teased, planting her hands on his shoulders.

"Hey, that was some of my finest work!" David cried in mock betrayal.

"Yes, of course it was, honey," she appeased.

He chuckled heartily, cracking a wide grin. "Well?" he posed.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to take my advice and go and talk to your daughter?" The way he worded the question punched through the playful atmosphere that had taken hold of them for a brisk moment and shot right at the heart of the matter.

Snow crumpled back on to the bed and exhaled slowly, keeping her eyes on her husband's affectionate gaze. "Of course I am. I would be there 24/7 if it was possible. I just don't want to scare her and feel her push us away."

"You won't scare her; she's the perfect blend of me and you – strong until the very end."

Snow shook her head. "I don't know; I learnt pretty quickly that Emma Swan does not like her walls being attacked."

"But you've broken through them before," he pointed out candidly.

Good point.

"Yes but I'm not sure how, or even if, I can do it again."

"Trust me; you'll know exactly what to do when the time comes. Just talk to her as her friend, as Mary Margaret, and I guarantee that something will get through to Emma. Don't let fear stop you from rekindling the relationship you have with your daughter."

Of course he was right. He usually was when it came to Snow. It was like he could see past everything and zone in on whatever issue plagued her with a single glance. It was quite the party trick, actually.

"Well, thank you Oprah for your incredible insight," Snow said, dashing over to kiss him on the cheek.

"Have you ever even watched Oprah?"

The brunette shrugged. "Maybe. I don't really remember."

He shook his head and smiled, taking her into his arms and laying them down onto the bed. Her head nestled into his shoulder as his arms wrapped around her, Snow felt…clearer. Clearer than she had in days.

She tightened her hold, hoping to stay like this a little while longer.

"Eh, Snow?"

"Yeah?"

"Could you ease up a bit? Still recovering from cracked ribs here," he strained.

"Oops, sorry," she said bashfully as she loosened her grip and lay her hand on his stomach.

"Thanks," he breathed, kissing the top of her head.

* * *

A cacophony of sounds startled Snow into wakening early the next morning. She groaned and yanked the pillow over her ear but the crash of what sounded like glass colliding with the floor forced her to take a look at what was going on.

Charming was knelt on the floor, cursing under his breath, trying to clean up the mess he made. The shards on the carpet looked like the remains of a tiny glass wolf figurine; apparently Ruby liked to have one in each room in the Bed and Breakfast.

"What are you doing?" she asked sleepily, stifling a yawn with the back of her hand.

"I, uh, was trying not to disturb you."

"Well you didn't do a good job of that," she quipped, matting down her errant hair.

"I guess not," he admitted, brushing the remaining bits of the ornament into his cupped hand.

"The wolf figurine?" Snow asked, gesturing to his hands.

David nodded. "I was picking up my key and I guess I hit against it and well, it's no more." He threw the pieces into the bin. "Do you think Ruby will notice?"

"Probably."

Charming made a fist and gently punched his hand. "Ah."

Climbing out from under the covers, Snow trudged over to her husband. "Don't worry," she winked, "I'll soften her for you."

"Gee, thanks," he laughed, collecting his bag from beside the dresser.

"So you're meeting up with the dwarves?"

"Yep. We're gonna meet at the apartment and take it from there." He slung it over his shoulder, wincing slightly as he overexerted with his arm.

"Are you sure you're okay to go and rummage through the apartment? Whale did say to take it easy; I don't think this is what he had in mind."

"Snow, I'm fine," David assured. "I've suffered far worse than a few cracked ribs. Remember when I was shot with an arrow by a certain fugitive?" he asked coyly. "It took me weeks to get full feeling back in my arm. This is nothing."

"Whatever you say, Charming," Snow sighed. She already knew he was hurting – the pain settled behind his ocean eyes a dead giveaway but she bit her tongue from scolding him. He'd learn his lesson the hard way later.

"So when are you going to see Emma?"

"Oh I'll get dressed and maybe grab a coffee and a few magazines before I go." She crossed her arms and looked everywhere else except at her husband. She didn't want him to see how nervous she was – which was just so ridiculous. What kind of mother was she that she was scared to visit her daughter in the hospital? What did that say about her as a person?

He probably sensed the anxiety radiating off her but, being the charming guy he was, he said nothing and instead opted to give her a soft kiss on her forehead. "Say hi for me?"

"Of course," she smiled.

He stopped for a second to look at her meaningfully. "Be her Mary Margaret, Snow." He cupped her cheek. "I'll see you later," he whispered before leaving the room…and Snow alone.

* * *

Granny's diner had a unique buzz about it as Snow finally gained enough motivation to get ready and buy a coffee. Ruby was overly enthusiastic as she served the customers and there was hardly a seat available. People chatted and laughed in every corner, all enjoying the brighter morning following the desolate one yesterday. As Snow waited for the brew, she couldn't help but feel jealous. Everywhere she looked there were happy faces and care-free attitudes as if they were rubbing their uncomplicated lives in her face. None of them seemed to be dealing with a daughter the same age as them who used magic that nearly killed her and then contributed to her forgetting a chunk of her life.

All Snow wanted was for her family to be like the people that surrounded her: happy, care-free, healthy, relaxed. That wasn't too much to ask was it?

* * *

Today was the day Emma was going to try and sit up. Not that she had much faith in that happening, though. It seemed that every time she put a certain amount of pressure on her hands to help push upright, they would falter and she'd slip back onto the mattress. The burns on her legs still itched and aggravated like hell and so using them to propel her was out of the question.

As she fell back down again for the sixth time, she figured she'd need help. But while she was being checked on by numerous nurses, she could never pluck up enough courage to ask. Of course she would only be shy when she really needed help.

She threw her head back against the pillow in frustration at…everything. Dreams escaped her during the night which meant that she was still no closer to remembering anything and the more she pushed herself to delve into the absolute corners of her mind, the more upset she became at failing to come up with anything.

Why couldn't she just _remember_? Why was it _so hard_?

Her anger rising in the pit of her stomach, Emma steeled herself and inhaled sharply through her teeth as she applied as much pressure on her hands as possible without crying out in agony and pushed, all the while dragging her body into a seating position. She kept her eyes closed throughout the process, as if keeping them open would somehow hamper the movement.

"You're sitting," a voice said proudly from across the room. Emma didn't need her eyes to know who that was.

* * *

_Be her Mary Margaret. _

That one sentence was like a mantra for Snow on her journey to the hospital. She wasn't quite sure _how _to do that – her maternal instincts were already in overdrive as it was. There was no way to quieten them.

Though she hoped that as she tried to be more her friend than her mother that it would all come so naturally to her.

But then she saw Emma use all of her energy to defy her body's cries and before she could talk herself out of it, she was talking and looking at her as only a proud mother could. _Those_ looks she had perfected.

"I am?" the blonde asked. "Oh, I am!" Her elation was infectious. Snow wondered how long she had been trying to sit up in the bed.

"How does it feel?"

"You have no idea," she laughed once, her smile still there.

All the brunette could do was beam back…which suddenly unnerved her daughter who dropped her stare to her hands. Hoping to salvage the moment, Snow reached into her bag and pulled out a few magazines. "I brought you these in case you got bored," she expressed, handing them to the woman.

"Thanks." Emma examined them one by one, flicking through the issues.

"I'm actually not sure what kind of magazines you like considering I don't think I've ever see you read one but I figured that I couldn't go wrong if I went with an eclectic mix."

Emma held up one into the light. "Barbed Wire Monthly?" she asked, turning to Snow with an amused expression.

"Well…it could be an enticing read."

"I'll save that one for my sleepless nights." She put the pile to the side of the bed. "It was really nice of you to do that. Thanks."

"Oh, no problem. You'd do the same for me." Was that an okay thing to say? She was almost certain Emma would do something similar if she were in a similar position.

"Are you going to sit down? You're kind of making me nervous."

Not needing to be asked twice, Snow shifted her weight onto the plastic chair. The two women sat in silence for what felt like years; Emma interested in her nails and Snow in her wedding ring. Things had never been like this before. The awkwardness seeped into every nook and cranny of the room, whipping around them in a frenzy.

"David says hi," Snow eventually remembered. "He's out with the dwarves but he wanted me to tell you that."

"Oh. Tell him I said hi, too."

"I will," Snow nodded over-enthusiastically. She tried not to stare at the blonde but sometimes it couldn't be helped. She just wanted to protect her and care for her and tell her that she loved her but the time wasn't right. Would the time ever be right?

"This is ridiculous, Emma!" she huffed with chagrin.

Emma shot back in confusion. "What is?"

"All this – everything. Me and you sitting here and acting as if we hardly know one another. We're _best friends_. Things shouldn't be like this; we should be able to just talk."

"Things are different now. We can't just be Mary Margaret and Emma."

"But why not?"

"'Cause…well…uh you're…you're…you know," Emma stuttered, scratching above her eyebrow.

Snow sighed resolutely, slapping her hands onto her lap. "I know. But that doesn't mean that we can't try to be the friends we were. I told you once that it might be difficult but that I believed that we could be even better friends because of this…change." Saying the word 'mother' didn't really seem like such a good idea, not when Snow was convinced that she saw something flash across Emma's features – something along the lines of…recognition? The brunette wasn't exactly well versed in expression-reading though at this particular point she wished she was.

Emma's eyelids fluttered toward her mother but her shoulders hunched in a rather childlike gesture. Snow thought her heart would burst. Maybe it already had…

"How can you be so sure? How can you say that and mean it? _This_," she waved her hand between them, "is not normal. It's so much to take in and it's going to take time – a lot of time – to fully grasp and I'm sorry for that but I don't know what you want me to say or do to make this any better. I don't know how to do _this._"

"Neither do I. But we've been doing a good job of it so far. It's not without its difficulties but whoever said it would be easy? I wasn't expecting you to jump into my arms and continue as if nothing was different. I know you, Emma; I knew this was going to be a challenge." She paused to take the blonde's hand, praying that Emma didn't pull away. Thankfully, she didn't. Yet. "But it's a challenge that I intend to win no matter what it takes."

"I just…" she trailed off to catch her breath, clearly at war with herself. The brunette wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Let's go with good. "I just feel like I've lost my best friend. I've only ever had one other one in my life when I was a teenager but you were the best friend I've ever had – the best person I've ever known. To lose that – it's so painful. More so than these stupid bandages and the burning that travels through my body whenever I breathe."

Her stomach twisted into a knot upon hearing her daughter's plight and it took all of her willpower not to smother her in overbearing affection and consideration. But she had Emma talking and that was too good a situation to overlook. She may never get that chance again. She had to indulge in the line of conversation. Looking down at their hands and the way they perfectly fit in to one another, Snow summoned a sad smile.

"I feel like I've lost my best friend, too," she confessed, tugging her arm so that she'd look at her. Emma had professed her distaste for that particular gesture – she thought it was such a motherly thing to do. There was a bubbling hope inside of her that hoped it would spark some form of memory in the blonde.

"Really?"

"Of course. Emma Swan was Mary Margaret Blanchard's first ever best friend and as much as you think otherwise right now, I'm still Mary Margaret. I maybe a slightly more self-assured version, but I'm still her. She's still me. That hasn't changed."

"Except it has. You may still look the same but you don't sound like her."

"But Emma those things that made me Mary Margaret are _still _there," she argued, attempting to reach a point in her daughter's walls where she could break through.

The blonde took a deep breath, her gaze fixated at a spot just above Snow's head. When she spoke, her voice was as soft as Snow had ever heard it. Like a quiet, lilting confession of a child. "Maybe. But you're not just Mary Margaret my friend; you're Mary Margaret my _mother_. I look at you and my instant reaction is to view you as the person who has been there for me when no one else was; someone who never judged me," she proclaimed, biting her bottom lip in hesitation. Snow didn't dare interrupt, but she had a feeling where this was going. "But then the view changes and instead I see the person who gave me up. Who put me in a wardrobe and sent me to a completely foreign land in the hope that one day I'd find you and rescue all the people from a terrible curse. Part of me thinks that selfish of you; you put your minutes old baby into some magical contraption for the sole purpose that they'd come back and fight this significant battle. But another part of me understands why you did it: you wanted to protect me and give me a better chance at life. I did the same thing for Henry. It's just that…my whole life has been determined by my being alone; every day I woke up thinking my parents abandoned me and that there was something wrong with me because they never came back. Being alone was my curse. By saving me from one, I was thrust into another one just as painful." Pausing to collect her words and to control the emotion literally spilling out of her, Emma voice began to shake as she continued. "So I look at you and I'm conflicted; I'm angry and upset and confused and then I'm understanding and forgiving and I just don't know what to think anymore!" Emma buried her face in her hands, breathing heavily.

Tears fell down Snow's cheeks, collecting at her chin, at everything the blonde had shared. She had heard other versions of course back before Emma's memory was lost but there was something so poignant about hearing it from the woman now as they sat beside one another in the hospital. What could she say that would help Emma? The nursery wasn't there for affirmation of her love. The only way she could get through to her was through words.

She just hoped that she had the right ones.

Drawing courage from somewhere, Snow pulled back the blonde, curly locks away from Emma's face and left her hand rest on the back of her daughter's head. She was not going to be deterred. "Do you want to know about that day? The day we sent you away?" Emma met her eyes. "I say this with wholehearted honesty Emma when I say that it was the most painful thing I've ever done. I held you in my arms and it was the most amazing out-of-body experience. You were mine. You were ours. We had created something so magical, so special, and so beautiful out of our love and you belonged to us – no one else. I had a _daughter. _Someone I had only known mere seconds and who I loved unconditionally and would do anything for. And anything included saving you from the threat looming. I acted instinctively; I decided to put you first before absolutely everything else. Did you know that your father thought I was crazy? And in a way I was; I was crazy with the thought of getting you to safety. That was all that mattered." She leaned forward, her heartbroken expression reflected in Emma's glassy eyes. "Oh Emma I wanted nothing more than for you to stay with us but we couldn't let Regina get near you. Ever since the curse broke, I've lived with the repercussions of that decision knowing what I do about what your life was like without us and every day I _wish _it was all different and that, somehow, we could have all stayed together and been a family like we'd always wanted. And I can't tell you how _sorry _we are, Emma. I know it's not enough but I'm _so sorry._"

* * *

Mary Margaret's speech brought Emma to tears and she found herself swimming in warm familiarity. As if she'd heard it before. As if it was the most natural thing in the world. She watched as the woman moved backward, smearing the tears with her sleeve, trying to rein it all in. she couldn't put a finger on it but she had a feeling that she had experienced something like this moment before. Well, she did technically, but this was the first time where she felt like this moment with Mary Margaret was normal in the sense that it only brought her comfort. She could feel the love and affection in every word battering down her defences and weaselling its way into her heart. She cared about Mary Margaret as her friend, but now she was beginning to care about Mary Margaret – Snow White – as her mother.

"So…what next?" she sniffed with a light laugh which invited one from the brunette.

**I ended it there because it was getting a little too long, but I will pick it up where it left off at the start of the next chapter and I will try really hard to make it more light-hearted! Haha so what did you all think? Was it too much? I really do hope you guys enjoyed it! If you have time please let me know what you thought :)**


	25. Chapter 25

**Hey all! Thank you all so much for everything! This story will most likely be coming to end soon so I hope you all like these last few chapters! :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

Emma couldn't deny it even if she wanted to. The way Mary Margaret looked at her warmed her heart. Made her feel like she belonged. Made her _want _to belong. As a teenager, Emma craved that feeling of self-worth that always seemed so elusive; something so close but still so out of reach. But as she matured and her view on life altered and hardened, chasing the idea of belonging was no longer a goal in her life. She had learned how to cope with being alone. She worked better that way. And yet, as the brunette's eyes appraised her affectionately, an inkling of that feeling materialized in the pit of her stomach.

What really made her stop though was that it felt so familiar, like she had felt it before, like she had known what it was like to be a part of something and to have someone look at her the way Mary Margaret did right then. It was almost like a memory…

"What are you smiling at?"

Emma blinked and snapped back into reality. "What do you mean?"

"That expression on your face – I believe it's called a smile," the woman grinned.

"Oh, uh, I was just…thinking."

"About?"

"Stuff," Emma replied with a nonchalant shrug, breaking their stare.

To her surprise, Mary Margaret let out a light titter. "Not vague at all. I've always had a distaste for that word. _Stuff. _It just sounds so…dirty."

"Seriously?" Mary Margaret was such a_ schoolteacher_. "Well what would you use instead of 'stuff'?"

"'Things'. Or 'issues'. Or 'matters'. Actually, I'd use anything else I could think of before I'd pick 'stuff'." Even as she spoke the word, her body cringed. Emma couldn't hide her amusement.

"Okay. Noted. I won't use…that word again. Well, I'll try not to. I'm not going to make any promises."

"So you were thinking about _things_. What kind of things?"

Uh, and she was doing so well. With a resolved sigh, Emma looked at the brunette again, scratching her head. "I was thinking that this feels familiar. Me and you talking. And I don't just mean as Mary Margaret and Emma but as Snow White and Emma. It doesn't make any sense to me right now but I assume it will in time." She paused for a beat. "We've done a lot of taking since the curse broke, haven't we?"

"Maybe not as much as you think. Self-indulgent family time wasn't exactly a luxury we had. We were kind of thrown into unusual circumstances and found ourselves separated for a while, but there were definitely some much needed conversations."

Emma nodded, remembering Henry mentioning something about Cora and kidnappings and other things that sounded like they'd come straight out of a book.

_Straight out of a book. _

Suddenly an image snaked its way into the blonde's head and she scrunched her forehead in order to focus on it. She was holding a book – Henry's book, if she looked hard enough, and she was…standing with the boy and her parents near…the town border? Maybe. The pages of the book were being flicked through, showcasing numerous events, yet zoning in on them was impossible. She desperately wanted to make sense of the image or thought or whatever that was but Mary Margaret's soft, contemplative voice managed to drag her back to the present.

"We've always been able to do that though, haven't we? Talk, I mean. It was just so natural with us." If Emma hadn't of been looking at her, she would have assumed the woman was upset but instead, she was smiling widely, a wistful look playing on her features.

It had been. Easy, that was. Emma never felt like she had to be anyone else with Mary Margaret. She could just be Emma – scars and everything - and no matter how many times she was sure the brunette would become fed up with her and kick her out of her home, the woman would do or say something else that obliterated those thoughts. Her friendship meant the world to Emma. "Yeah, it was," the blonde agreed, unable to stop her lips from curling upwards.

"Except for maybe the day you moved in with me," she chuckled, her eyes brightening. "That was the first time I've ever seen you speechless. You just stood in the middle of the apartment with hands shoved into your back pockets, looking down at your feet and not saying a word."

"Hey, I was nervous! Like I told you, I wasn't the roommate type. I'd never really had friends let alone someone who offered to let me live with them, so I was a little…"

"Shy?" the brunette interjected. "Not usually something associated with Emma Swan now, is it?" She was trying to hold back the laughter.

"I wasn't shy; I was _nervous_," Emma reiterated, though knowing well that Mary Margaret was right. That night Emma was out of her element. Taking up someone's offer, even having an offer to accept, was new to her. That, and she liked Mary Margaret; she worried she'd screw up by saying or doing the wrong thing. "It was a different situation, that's all."

Mary Margaret's eyebrows shot up her forehead. "If that's your story," she said wryly.

"It's the truth," Emma countered.

"Fine." Her mother held up her hands in surrender, her smile still wide. "I wore you down with a hot chocolate anyway."

"I've gotta admit, you know how to break down a person's defences."

Mary Margaret shot her a whimsical look. "No one can resist the power of hot chocolate with cinnamon."

"Maybe you should have used that on Regina back in Fairytale Land," Emma scoffed as she draped her arm gingerly around her abdomen, her other arm pressed against the mattress keeping her body steady.

The brunette snickered. "Oh yeah, imagine that: Snow White and the Evil Queen have hot chocolate over lunch. I can see the headlines now."

As much as it made her head swim with information, hearing Mary Margaret refer to herself as the iconic character she was, was sort of funny. In a way, Emma felt…_proud _of her friend –and mother – and in another, she was completely bewildered. Such unusual combinations of feelings she was experiencing lately.

"For what it's worth, if that was the headline, I'd buy the paper. If not for the article, at least for the pictures. I mean, imagine the dresses," she said, feeling the heat rising to her cheeks as the other woman beamed at her with the most loving smile Emma had ever witnessed in her life.

She'd have to get used to that. Then again, maybe she already had.

"I was never a dress kind of girl, actually. I had wardrobes filled with the most beautiful, colourful floor-length gowns in all the kingdom but I only wore them on special occasions. I much preferred pants – so much easier to move around the woods in."

"Yeah, I'm not a dress girl either. I think I own, like, two."

"Really? What colours?"

Emma raised an eyebrow. "Uh, one's navy and the other is pink…I think."

"_You _own a pink dress?"

"Don't look at me like that. I needed certain outfits for my job." She hastily continued before Mary Margaret could react and fire any more questions about her life. "What I was merely saying was that dresses were never something I felt comfortable in. They're so showy and I'm much happier in something a little subtler." Such a strange conversation. Yet, she couldn't deny the fact that she hadn't felt this light in so long.

"Yeah, me too," the brunette agreed. "Plus, they never really looked well with my bow and arrows."

"You shoot arrows?" That certainly wasn't in the movie she saw growing up.

Mary Margaret pursed her lips sadly, her eyes losing their sparkle for a split-second. "Yeah, it was one of my favourite things to do when I was younger. I, uh, took it up after my mother passed away to help take my mind off things. My father thought it would be good if I channelled my energy into a new hobby. As soon as I shot my first arrow, I fell in love with it." She dropped her stare to her hands that pulled at the bottom of her shirt.

"So Snow White shoots arrows? That's not something I expected."

"No one ever does; it works well in my favour."

Something about the way she said that piqued Emma's curiosity, but there was another thing on her mind. There was a question she wanted to ask but wasn't exactly sure _how _to ask it. It had been on her mind since she woke up and yet she couldn't bring herself to bring it up. She didn't know why; it wasn't like it was some huge life-altering inquiry. But now seemed like the best time to bite the bullet. "What did I call you…you know, before?"

"What do you mean?" Mary Margaret raised her head again, tilting it to the side like she usually did when posing a question. Just one of the many things Emma had learned about her over time.

"Like, how did I address you?"

Her face froze. "Oh. Well, you called me Mary Margaret."

"I did?"

The brunette nodded.

"Did it bother you? _Does _it bother you?"

"Oh, Emma, no it doesn't. I've been Mary Margaret longer than I've been Snow."

"No," Emma gulped, feeling apprehensive. "I meant, does it bother you that I didn't call you, you know, 'mom'?"

Where was this coming from?!

Her mother drew in a long breath in deliberation. Her eyes never left Emma's. "Well, you did call me that once. Back in the Enchanted Forest when Cora had captured me. I think you thought I didn't hear – but I did."

So she had said 'it' before. That made her mother's heartbreak over her condition more palpable. When Henry had called her 'mom', Emma was sure her heart was ready to burst at the seams. There was nothing like hearing someone you love refer to you in such an affectionate way. Wait so when she woke up from the coma, that was the first time he had called her 'mom', right? Or was there another time? Emma felt oddly used to it; as if she expected him to say it. She shook her head as the concentration resumed its position in the form of a pounding between her eyes again.

"Oh." The blonde winced as she tried to pull her legs up to her chest like she always used to do but it looked like she wasn't going to be able to do that for a little while. They fell limp against the mattress and she sighed. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know. For not being the 'me' you know." She couldn't bear to look at her in case she started to cry. She did not want to cry. Not yet.

"Emma, it's okay," the woman soothed tenderly.

"But it shouldn't be! How can you just sit there and act like nothing has happened? If I were you and Henry had forgotten all about the time we'd spent together, I don't know if I'd be able to deal with it. I'm not that strong. But you are. You were willing to push aside everything that had happened, every memory we had together as mother and daughter, and just be my friend! How can you just _do_ that?"

Mary Margaret let out a quiet laugh, pushing back hair off her face and, in a moment of courage, took the blonde's hand that lay across her stomach. She pulled her chair as close as it could get to the bed. "I didn't think I was doing that good of a job," she admitted. "I haven't pushed anything aside. In fact, I think I've held them closer to me than ever before. I'm not going to lie, Emma – I don't want to lie. It hurts. It hurts _a lot. _But then I look at you and I'm so unbelievably grateful that you're alive and breathing and just _here. _There's nothing else – absolutely nothing else – that keeps my heart beating and helps me keep it together. You may not remember the time we spent together and though I pray that you will one day, that doesn't mean that we can't be the same or even better now. It's not like we don't have the chance. We've all the time in the world." She squeezed her hand softly, letting her thumb map over the valleys and contours that defined it. "And there's no rush; I'm not expecting you to jump in right where we left off. But just know that your father and I will always be here for you when you need us. You never have to be alone again."

Though her memory of being a daughter was hazy to say the least, Emma had never felt more close to the woman sitting beside her. Maybe it was the way she spoke, or the way she looked at her so tenderly as if she was the only person in the entire world. Or maybe it was something else completely; a sliver of connection burning through her mind from a distant time. Either way, Emma became enveloped in an overwhelming sense of familiarity and ease, of being comfortable enough to release the iron grip on her walls just a little. It was a scary feeling, if she were honest with herself. Showing vulnerability, even just a small particle of it, never came naturally to her. It reared its head at the most unusual times, taking her off-guard. And now as she let herself relax in Mary Margaret's presence, she just wanted to talk to her and be around her. Not as the friends they were, but as family. Because that was what they were. And for the first time since she had woke up, she believed that with all her heart.

"Sorry was that too motherly?" the brunette asked, pulling back sheepishly. "I wish I had a sensor that went off when I go too far. Sometimes I just carried away-"

"No, it's okay," Emma cut in with a small smile that reached her eyes. "You shouldn't have to apologise for being who you are. You're a mother and so am I and that's not something I ever want to shy away from again." Against her wishes, a yawn escaped her and the pounding in her head intensified.

"Sounds like you could use some sleep."

"It wouldn't hurt…"

Her mother rose to her feet. "Okay, well, I'll leave you to it."

"No, don't go," she protested, inwardly scolding the child within. "Would you…stay? I never sleep for long anyway."

Mary Margaret's eyes sparkled with tears, her face a well of emotion. "I'd love to stay." She settled back onto her seat, taking the blonde's hand again.

Emma's eyelids gradually closed. "If you want, maybe you could tell me some stories from when we were in Fairytale Land?"

As she drifted off, she was sure she could hear the response. "There's nothing I would want more."

* * *

Charming climbed the stairs of the apartment block, suppressing the piercing cries of his aching body. Not only did his ribs still feel like they were rattling with every movement, the burns he had acquired on his stomach and thighs itched like hell. He missed the medication the hospital had him on; the only thing he could take now were painkillers and they did nothing to ease the dull throb that held him captive. Add that to his twice daily routine of rubbing a horrible sour coconut-scented ointment into the wounds and it wasn't the most pleasant of experiences to say the least.

What struck him about the walk up to the apartment was that, from the outside, everything looked the way it always had. Completely unperturbed by the flames. It was only when he pushed the door open was the destruction seen.

The harsh light from the doorway spilled into the blackened, charred hovel, illuminating the damage. It was barely recognizable. Were it not for his innate knowledge of the layout, David would have been totally lost. Nothing was untouched by the event.

His eyes filled with tears as he thought of how upset Snow was when he told her how bad the damage was. She was going to be crushed.

But the loss of items of clothing or pieces of jewellery didn't mean much to David. The only thing, the only possession he cared about uncovering was Emma's baby blanket. Though neither Snow nor Emma had mentioned anything about it, he knew it would only be a matter of time before one of them brought up its whereabouts.

And he wanted to find it for himself, too. That blanket was the only important remnant left of their life back in the Enchanted Forest. His baby was wrapped in that blanket, enveloped in his arms as he put his life on the line so that she could get to safety. It was the only possession she owned that came from them.

He had to find it.

"It's about time you got here." Charming let out a quiet laugh as Grumpy sauntered over to him swinging a torch. "The brothers and I were beginning to wonder if you'd show."

"Sorry, my movement's not what it used to be. But what's important is that I'm here now. How's it going?"

"Not great," the dwarf proclaimed in his usual gravelly voice. "Emma really did all this?"

"That's not the point, Leroy," David was quick to throw in. He didn't want Emma to shoulder the blame for something that was out of her control and he sure as hell didn't want other people passing judgement on her. His daughter was already too hard on herself as it was.

"I was just gonna say that it's pretty darn impressive. I bet she could give anyone a run for their money in this town." He gestured for Charming to follow as he ventured into the wreckage.

"Yeah well, I don't think she's too keen on thinking about magic right now."

"Still no change?"

David turned to the side to see Ruby, along with Happy and Doc, trying to make sense of the mess. She gazed at him sympathetically, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "No, not really. Whale said it could take some time."

"How's Snow doing?"

Charming sighed. "Not too good. She tries so hard to be strong but I think I underestimated how much this hurt her. She hasn't been herself since she found out."

"Emma will remember soon. I know it."

"I hope so."

"Of course she will; if anyone can trigger anything in that blonde head of hers, it's Snow," Grumpy chimed, thrusting a box into David's chest, causing him to yelp.

"Uh, Leroy," he choked, "cracked ribs, remember?"

"Oh. Right. Yeah, sorry." Ruby stared at him incredulously, her eyes menacing in the dark. "Woah, cool it, sister. I forgot; sue me."

"What is all this stuff?"

"Anything we could find that looked like it hadn't been destroyed by the fire...which was not a lot."

Angling the box into his elbow, David used an arm to rifle through the items, most of which were just meaningless possessions. A clock, a few forks, a magnet that read 'World's Greatest Teacher', a couple of books, some ornaments and a doorknob. No blanket.

"Any sign of Emma's baby blanket?" he whispered hopelessly.

"Not that we've seen," Ruby replied softly. "I've been trying to track it but all I can smell in here is burnt wood."

"The stairs up to Emma's bedroom are pretty unstable; we've only tried to go up once and the bannister gave way. Dopey nearly broke his neck…idiot," Leroy grumbled as he dropped his stare to the ground, unable to meet the Prince's eyes. "I don't know if we'll be able to check up there."

They couldn't find his daughter's most treasured possession. What was he going to tell Snow? Or worse, what was he going to tell Emma?

"Grandpa?"

David whirled around to see Henry standing in the doorway. He looked much taller against the conflicting light. "Henry? What are you doing here?"

"I wanna help," he shrugged, his toothy grin on display.

The man ushered over to the boy, casting the box aside and crouching down to his level. "I appreciate the thought, buddy, but it's not safe for you to be here. You could get hurt."

"I'm not a little kid, you know. I can help," the boy insisted.

"I know you're not but you're my grandson and I need you to stay safe, okay?" Charming struggled upright and ruffled the kid's hair.

Henry sighed, seemingly realizing that there was no way around his grandfather. "Okay, but did I hear you guys talking about Emma's baby blanket?"

He scrunched his face and rested his hands on his hips, his eyes tight. "Yeah, you did, kid. We can't find it and even if we did, I'm pretty sure it would have been pretty badly damaged."

Suddenly the boy removed his backpack and knelt down on the floor. Unzipping the top, he plunged his hand in.

"Henry, what are you doing?"

Silently, the boy yanked out the contents and it all became clear.

Henry had Emma's baby blanket.

David gasped and reached down to take the blanket in his hands. "But how…?" he asked, looking at his grandson through tear-filmed eyes.

"When I was going to my mom's to stay, you know, before all this happened, I wanted to bring something of Emma's with me. It's stupid but she had only been back a few days and I just wanted a piece of her with me. I didn't tell her I was taking it; I just shoved it into my backpack." His head bowed and his voice wracked with guilt, Henry looked every inch of the eleven-year-old boy he was.

"And because Regina cast a protection spell, it was safe in your bag."

"I guess so."

Smiling like a fool as he ran his hands along the embroidered bottom, and feeling nothing but intense gratitude, David pulled Henry into a tight hug. "What do you say to a hot chocolate in Granny's before we go see how your mom is doing?"

Henry broke away. "Yeah, cool," he smiled.

* * *

It was a dark room. Black walls, no windows, red door. A single lightbulb lit overhead but it did nothing to illuminate the space. And it was cold. Not freezing, but cool enough to send a chill down the spine. Emma wrapped her arms around her body, trying to retain body heat but she became preoccupied with what she was wearing. She wasn't in a hospital gown anymore; but a pair of tight-fitting jeans, black tank top and boots, and a burgundy leather jacket.

"What is going on?" she whispered aloud, the sound echoing off the walls and bouncing back to her louder, ringing in her ears.

Breathing heavily and totally freaked out, Emma dashed to the red door, grasping at the handle and desperately pleading with it to open. She kicked and pushed and slammed her fists against it to try to make it bend to her will but nothing happened.

Suddenly, the dim light extinguished and Emma was left alone in complete darkness. She grabbed a groove on the door to keep herself calm. But her heart pounded erratically, and there was no stopping it.

Then she heard it. And saw it.

Mary Margaret's voice wisped through the air; her words splayed in dazzling white on the walls, appearing and disappearing in quick succession. Repeating over and over again.

_"You found us."_

_"We're together...finally..."_

_"No, I came through to be with you."_

So. Creepy.

Pinching her forehead in confusion and concentration, Emma found herself listening intently to the words, trying to place where she had heard them before. Because she _had _heard them before. Before it began its fourth rotation, Emma backed into the door and gasped as the structure gave way behind her and she fell out on the hard ground underneath.

Groaning, she turned on her side to gauge her surroundings. Thankfully it was not another coal room but somewhere still as desolate and despairing. It looked like a castle. No, it _was _a castle. Emma planted her hands on the cobbles and used them to push her body to its feet. She had been there before. No, she wasn't sure when or why or how that was even possible but she had definitely been there before.

A faint cry of an infant caught her attention and, perhaps her maternal instinct kicking in, Emma followed the sound, moving toward a door in the distance. As she quickened her pace, her worry inflated and she found herself marching toward the ever increasing cries though still unsure of what was happening. Finally reaching the door, the wails ceased and were instead replaced with a woman's voice rising above her. And not just any woman's voice, but that of her mother.

_"I was going to teach you how to walk in here. How to talk. How to dress for your first ball. We never got to do any of it. We never got to be a family."_

_"I'm not used to someone putting me first."_

_"Well get used to it."_

Luckily these words weren't flung all around her but that didn't take away from the eeriness of her words reverberating around the castle. Emma unlocked the door and was met with a baby's nursery. The soft pinks and yellows were a breath of fresh air and the echoing sentences were no longer weird but oddly calming. She ambled over to the crib and a splash of purple caught her eye.

Her baby blanket was sitting in the corner of the crib surrounded by a zoo of stuffed animals. She drew in a shaky breath and took a step back in an attempt to make sense of all this. This was her nursery.

"_You look like your father."_

_Her _nursery. Or, so she thought. It sure seemed that way.

"_I won't let anything happen to you."_

Feeling suffocated, she inhaled deeply again and closed her eyes. This was all becoming way too much; a haziness had taken over and she was sure the floor was going to fall away under her feet at any given moment. It was like everything she had known was slowly dissolving away and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

And then she heard her own voice, screaming out.

"_Mom, please wake up!"_

Her eyes darted open and she breathed a sigh of relief to know she was still in a castle. Only now, she was in a dungeon. Great. Just the place she wanted to go. If this was any other situation she would have just rolled her eyes but she was pretty sure there was some deeper meaning to all of this.

"_Is she dead?"_

Hearing the fear and the heartbreak loaded behind that question sparked tears in her eyes. There was something so surreal about hearing your own voice and connecting that pain to the moment in which it was said. It was here – in the dungeon.

She ran her hands along what was left of the bars, eyeing the rubble and dismantled shackles. Her heart constricted hastily. Someone else was talking. It was…it was…ugh, who was it? She buried her head in her hands and willed herself to remember. It was there; she knew it. She knew it.

Cora!

_"Why, you used magic, my dear."_

_"I'm going to kill _you_ and _she's _going to watch."_

Her sneer crawled down Emma's spine and the image of her curled malevolent lips flashed in the blonde's mind, making her furious. The blood coursed through her limbs, causing a tingling sensation. A familiar sensation. Just as she was about to clench her fists, Mary Margaret's steely response shattered her vision, like she was physically there, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her. To tell her it was going to be okay.

_"You think you know my family...if there's one thing my family does, it's fight for the people we love...I will do everything in my power to protect my daughter."_

And then, in that moment, it was like the floodgates had opened wide and Emma was encompassed by various images and voices all swirling and twirling and spinning…

And Emma's head hurt. But she kept her eyes peeled open, examining each image and listening to each and every word said, tears streaming down her face as she, too, began to spin along with them.

_"I know you could never hurt anyone you care about no matter how powerful you are..."_

_"You're right...I won't look at you the way I used to before the curse was broken. Now I look at you and my heart swells with joy and love and I can hardly believe that I have you back in my life. I see my daughter; someone I love so much. So you're right, it won't be like before."_

_"We will always be friends. We will always be family."_

_"I love you, Emma; always have, always will."_

_"Mary Margaret?"_

_"Yes, Emma?"_

_"I just want you to know that I...I love you, too."_

And then it all stopped and she was in the apartment. Only, she wasn't alone. She was over by the counter but her father sat on the couch with…what appeared to be herself. Right. Now things really were crazy. She tried to grab their attention by yelling and flinging towels and paper napkins at them but nothing. They didn't see or hear her.

"Look, I know what's going to happen here," she sniffed, though understanding they couldn't hear her. "David's going to tell me that he's happy I'm back and that he missed me, and I'm going to tell him that I missed him too and then we're gonna hug." She leaned her forearms onto the counter and pushed her weight onto her lower body watching the scene unfold, still letting the tears flow freely.

It was rather touching actually.

_"I'm so glad you're okay; that you're back home where you belong. Where we all belong. Together as a family."_

"_Oh, Emma, I missed you. I missed you so much."_

"_I missed you, too."_

"So you remember?"

"What?" Emma turned her head to side and almost jumped on top of the counter when she saw Henry's figure lurking beside the refrigerator. "Oh my God! When did you get there?" she demanded, flinging her hand up to her heart in shock.

"Who says I haven't been here the whole time?"

"I would have seen you."

"I don't know; I've always been really good at hide-and-seek." The kid joined her by the counter, taking up the same position she had seconds before.

"What are you doing here, kid? What's going on?"

He shrugged. "I don't know, you tell me. It's your dream."

"I'm dreaming?"

"Yep. And it looks like it's helped you to remember."

"It…did? It…did. It did. I remember. Henry, I remember!" She grabbed him by the arms and looked deep into his eyes. "How did this happen?"

"I'm not sure, but you've had dreams before, right? Like, important dreams. Dreams that meant something or showed you something. I guess this was one of them."

"So I just fell asleep and all of a sudden my subconscious wants to help me out?"

"Well you asked your mom to tell you stories as you feel asleep, didn't you?"

Emma nodded.

Henry looked at her meaningfully. "I think you had to _want _to remember and be willing to remember on your own terms; not because you felt like you had to or because it was the right thing to do, but because you really wanted to have all those memories back. It's sort of like when Gramps had to win Grandma back when she drank that potion to forget him; he couldn't make her remember until she wanted to."

Emma processed that for a minute. "So Mary Margaret's stories and my dreams are helping me to remember and my son is the voice of reason? Someone please tell me this is not going to be a recurring thing," she mumbled, her head starting to hurt badly.

"Oh, I think you're waking up!" he exclaimed happily. "See you on the other side!"

Everything in front of her face began to twist and misshape until it all went black.

* * *

Snow saw Emma stir and put down the magazine she was reading so she could take Emma's hand.

"Hey there, sleepy head," she greeted warmly.

"Hey," Emma replied sleepily, slapping her forehead with the heel of her other hand.

"Are you okay?"

The blonde looked at her with interested eyes. "I'm not sure."

"What…what does that mean?" Snow could feel the panic rise within her again. Unfortunately, it was a feeling she was becoming all too acquainted with.

"I think…I think I remember."

**Okay, so what did you all think? I was trying to come up with a way of Emma remembering without it being something simple like a trigger; I wanted it to come back with a bang! Haha although I probably didn't pull it off and it probably reads terribly. If it does…I'm sorry. But I really, truly hope you all enjoyed it and reviews are greatly appreciated :)**

**Oh, and how about Manhattan? I mean, seriously. It was awesome! **


	26. Chapter 26

**Hey all! Thank you to all of you – each and every one of you! You're all amazing! Hope you enjoy this chapter :)**

**I do not own OUAT.**

"You…you what?" Snow could barely get the words out and when she finally did, they were more like a squeak than anything else. Against her will, her hand trembled around Emma's, alerting the blonde who scrutinized her with wholly different eyes than earlier. They were clearer somehow; perfect ovals of green glass. She tried again as Emma waited for her to collect herself. "You…" she gulped, "You remember? Really?"

If there was anything she had learned from the past few days, it was how to build some kind of guard around her heart – not a very good one, admittedly, but one nevertheless that filtered all of her emotion into a solid container just waiting to overflow. Now that container was bursting.

She held her breath for what felt like forever.

"I think so." Emma's voice was meek, and tired. Her gaze turned from Snow and up toward the ceiling as if she was posing some unspoken question to a higher power. The brunette noted that Charming did the same thing when set with a seemingly impossible task. It was actually kind of amazing how many similarities she could pinpoint the more time she spent with the woman. It was a universal truth: Emma never ceased to amaze her.

"But wha-how? You were only asleep. N-not even that long, actually," she stuttered, determined to keep her hands and heart steady. Yeah, she wasn't winning that battle. Thankfully, Emma didn't seem to notice. Or maybe it was because she was doing the same thing.

"I, uh, I had a dream."

"A dream?" Snow laughed, a swelling of confusion and utter relief mingling together creating some kind of incredulous chortle.

"Well, you might have had something to do with it, too," the blonde confessed sheepishly, as if still unsure what to say or do around Snow. Funnily enough, that uncertainty and vulnerability that was always there bubbling under the surface waiting to jump out but very rarely did, somehow made her love Emma more. As if that was even possible.

"And how's that?"

Emma half-smiled. "I think your bedtime stories are more powerful than you think."

Snow couldn't contain her elation any longer. Beaming like a maniac, she hopped up from the chair, still gripping her daughter's hand for dear life, and kissed her forehead. "Thank you for coming back to us," she whispered before kissing her again. Much to her chagrin, a wily tear found its way out of her eye and trickled down her face. She pulled back to wipe it away. She didn't want to cry; she didn't want to put Emma in any kind of uncomfortable situation. She was just so happy.

"Please don't cry," the woman said, visibly emotional too. The air was thick with so much affection that it was hard to believe that it was real. It was a moment that would never be able to be replicated – because it was just perfect.

"I promised myself I wouldn't cry."

"You did? Seriously, when do you _not _cry?"

Snow couldn't wipe the smile off her face. "Okay…that's pretty accurate. So are you going to tell me what your dream was about?" She nestled back onto the plastic chair.

"It's a really complicated mesh of things. I kept hearing your voice everywhere I went. There was a creepy dark room with a red door, and then I was your castle-"

"Our castle," Snow corrected lightly.

"Okay, _our _castle," Emma emphasised, seemingly happy to humour her mother, "and I was back in the apartment, watching a moment I had had with David. And then Henry showed up and started trying to cryptically explain things to me, but by then I was already remembering and…it was all very weird. I don't really know what actually happened or how things happened but it doesn't matter; I'm just so relieved to be able to start plucking out memories again. Having trouble remembering certain moments or events is way more unsettling than you think."

The blonde drifted off for a brief moment, lost in whatever thoughts rattled around her brain. In a way, Snow understood what she was saying. Though oblivious to it at the time, Mary Margaret was always looking for something, always seeking something out but never figuring out what it was. It was a constant feeling of something just being on the tip of the tongue but just as soon as it was there, it was gone and the world would keep on turning and she'd keep going on with the same routine. It wasn't until Emma Swan drove into town and walked into her classroom that fateful day that she felt this…_difference._ That was the only way to describe it. Nothing dramatically changed but there was this subtle shift in her psyche that drew her to Emma, that made her trust her and want to help and protect her.

It was like Emma's arrival had sparked purpose into her a life; her life, up until that point, was devoid of any real meaning. But not being able to figure out _why _she felt that way or _why _there was this nagging feeling of missing some key element in her mind was beyond frustrating which only grew the more she pushed herself to the point of almost recognition. That had happened on more than one occasion.

The first one being the first time she had seen Emma's baby blanket.

But remembering now was the best gift. "So it's all there? You remember everything?"

"I think so. I mean, I'm hazy but I'm pretty sure it's all there."

"Do you want to test it?"

Emma raised an eyebrow, turning her head completely to the side to take in the brunette's face. "You want to give me a test? You really are a schoolteacher, aren't you?"

"It could be helpful," she surmised with a quick shrug.

"Okay, so how do we do that?" The fact that he didn't automatically snap the idea in half warmed Snow's heart. If she wasn't careful the tears may reappear…

"Why don't you ask me questions about things you think happened and I'll tell you whether they did or not?"

"This sounds more complicated than I thought it would be…" Emma said, a hint of caution in her tone.

The brunette rolled her eyes. "Look, let me show you. Just ask me something after the curse was broken." She raised her arms out wide as if open to anything her daughter wanted to ask, and waited expectantly.

"Eh, okay. Did you really shoot an ogre in the eye with an arrow?"

"Yep."

"Did Cora really shape-shift?"

"Twice."

"Did I use magic to…kill her?" Emma shuddered as though exposed to an icy wind.

Snow squeezed her hand gently, forcing her to meet her eyes. "Emma, you were protecting yourself and your family. We wouldn't be home if it wasn't for you. As for Cora," she sneered her name, "who knows what happened to her? I for one wasn't going to wait around and see! I bet you anything she's still back there alive. People like her never seem to go away; they merely dissolve into the background until they see fit."

"So she's lurking in the shadows plotting her revenge?" Emma tried to make it sound like a joke but there was real fear in her expression.

Her maternal instincts immediately igniting, Snow ran her hand along Emma's hairline, brushing back little strands of hair in the process. "She can't get to us here. And even if she did, I would never let her go near you again. _Ever. _I will always try to keep you keep you safe. I will always protect you."

"Is that a promise?" her daughter laughed nervously, blushing under the severity of her mother's words.

Snow leaned forward, resting her elbows on the bed. "What do you think?" she winked.

She could have sworn there were tears in the blonde's eyes but she wouldn't acknowledge them. Instead, she just wanted to bask in the moment. Her daughter was back and nothing – and no one – could get in the way of that.

"I have another question…if that's okay?"

"Of course it is."

Emma took in a deep breath, squaring her jaw. "Did David…did he really leave the Christmas tree in the middle of the apartment?"

Snow couldn't contain her laugher, doubling over at her daughter's oh-so-stern delivery. "I'm afraid that is true as well! All that talk about it being different and unique when really he just couldn't lift it!"

"You've gotta admit, it wasn't normal."

"Like us?"

Emma's features softened; the lines on her face fading. "Why would we ever want to be normal?" she reasoned, "I always knew that my life wasn't normal and after spending the last twenty-eight years thinking that was the worst thing imaginable, I've finally realised that I never wanted to be normal – I wanted to belong. And now I finally do, even if it's the most screwed up thing you could think of."

"Do you ever wish it wasn't though? That it wasn't some messed up, complicated tangle of things interwoven in the most mind-bending way possible?" Snow tried to remain light and conversational but she had to ask; if she didn't it would quietly eat away at her, worsening as time passed.

The blonde sighed. "Yeah, I mean sometimes I do-"

"I understand." Snow's face crumpled and she found herself examining their hands in an effort to stay collected.

"You didn't let me finish, Mary Margaret," Emma quietly informed, ducking her head so their eyes met. "Don't _you_ ever wish that it could all be so simple? But life isn't simple. If it was, we'd all be holding hands and skipping into the sunset while birds serenaded us. Stuff like that doesn't happen in real life." She stopped when she caught sight of the brunette's expression. "What?"

She bowed her head bashfully. "That actually has happened to me…once…"

Emma couldn't help but roll her eyes in a mixture of awe and bafflement. "Of course it has. Anyway, what I was trying to say is it's not easy, and won't be easy, but there's no way I would trade any of this. I dedicated my whole life to finding my family, and now I've finally found them. Why would I ever want to give that away?"

"You've no idea how good it is to hear you say that."

"I have an idea," she answered with a small smile.

Unable to contain her elation, Snow threw her arms around her daughter, pulling her as tight as she could as if she'd never get the chance to do it again. There was no way she was ever going to take even the tiniest moment with her family for granted. The past few days were a real eye-opener, a challenge to Snow and Charming's greatest weaknesses and they had got through it – just barely. Time was precious and Snow wasn't going to waste any more time worrying about the small things – she was going to put her family first and make sure to cherish every moment spent with them.

"So," Emma said, pulling away to lie down, "tell me about holding hands and sunsets and birdsong."

Snow's smile widened. "Wow, where do I begin?"

* * *

Emma was so enthralled by the way her mother threw herself into a story that she didn't hear the sound of evil swoop into her room until the woman cleared her throat to mark her presence.

Both Emma and Snow looked up to see Regina's authoritative pose. "Sorry to interrupt this…family time," she said, studying Mary Margaret up and down like she was an insect that needed to be squashed.

"What are you doing here, Regina?" It was clear that Mary Margaret shared the same sentiment.

"I'm here because my son called me to let me know that he was on his way to visit you and I am to bring him home afterward. Does that suffice, Snow?"

Though her tone was no different than usual, knowing the history the two women had, made Emma all the more anxious to keep the atmosphere clear. "He's not here yet," she informed.

"Yes, I can see that, Miss Swan. I suppose I'll grab a bite to eat in the canteen while I wait."

She turned on her heel to leave and Mary Margaret decidedly directed her attention back onto Emma.

"Wait, Regina," Emma declared, surprising all three of them. "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

Her mother's eyes expanded, her jaw pretty much dropping to the floor. She didn't say anything but she was giving her one of those 'What the hell do you think you are doing?' looks.

"Do you mind, Mary Margaret?"

Still relatively stunned, Emma squeezed the brunette's hand and Mary Margaret hesitantly stood up and exited in the room, eyeing Regina as she left. If both of them didn't look so serious, Emma may have let herself laugh.

Regina moved closer to the bed but still kept her distance. It was obvious she wasn't thrilled with this arrangement. "Well what is it you wanted to talk to me about, Miss Swan?"

"What, do I have to have a reason to talk to my step-grandmother?"

She narrowed her stare. "Nice to see you haven't lost your bite."

"I wouldn't count on that going away any time soon."

Regina crossed her arms in irritation. "Can we please get to the point here?"

What was she trying to say? Talking to Regina was not exactly on top of her list of things she liked to do, but she felt like she should do it anyway. "I just…I wanted to say…" she paused, hoping her sincerity would dapple through her usual jabber, "thank you."

"For what, exactly?" If she seemed taken aback, she sure didn't show it. Whatever aura the Evil Queen possessed, it made others feel incredibly small in her presence. Emma wasn't too familiar with that feeling.

"For saving Henry and my mom when I went a little…out of control. And for looking after Henry while I've been in here."

"Going out of control? Is that what you would call it? I'd call it being reckless," she pestered sardonically. "And for the record, I didn't save Snow. The protection spell I cast covers a certain amount of area and Snow merely happened to be in the right place at the right time."

"That's fine if that's what you want to believe."

"It's the truth."

"Look, I know that at one point in your life you did care about Mary Margaret and it makes perfect sense that you still feel the need to protect her – even if _you_ don't see that." Emma realised she was pushing her luck but she couldn't let this line of thought go by; she had wondered about it since regaining a firmer hold on what had taken place.

She could have sworn she'd seen Regina's eyes soften slightly…

"Any consideration I had for her vanished a long time ago. She was simply in the right place, at the right time, and the spell helped her. That's all."

"Okay fine," Emma surrendered. "That's what happened."

"Are we done here now? Because I would really like to get something to eat."

"Yeah, we're done. I just wanted to say thank you."

The woman pursed her lips and looked down at her black boots. "Well…you're welcome." And with a curt nod, she scuttled out of the room without a glance backward.

Emma smirked as the stench of Regina's perfume lingered in the air. She wondered if the scent was called 'Poison'. It'd be apt in fairness.

* * *

"So you really remember everything again?"

Not long after Regina left, an excited Henry and David showed up with a curious Snow in tow. She didn't ask any questions but Emma knew there would be a conversation later. No getting out of that, unfortunately.

"So far so good," Emma replied, pushing into a seating position.

Henry, hopping onto the bed, gave her a toothy grin. "Good, 'cause I was worried you'd never remember."

"Nah, I'd never let that happen. I'm too stubborn to forget anything that important to me." She failed to mention that that was _exactly _what she was worried about, too. The thought of being unable to recall certain memories – especially special memories – was far too frightening to imagine. "I'm just sorry I scared you guys," she tagged on, looking at each of her family members individually.

"Well the most important thing is that you're okay now," David was quick to reassure, using the hybrid of happiness and courage as an excuse to kiss her on her forehead. She didn't mind though; the idea that her father wanted to do such a gesture brought a goofy smile to her face.

"Oh and I'm sorry about the apartment, too," she apologised shyly, still upset over destroying the only real place she ever equated with home. That feeling of safety and comfort was practically impossible for Emma to find her whole life suddenly appeared in the shape of a two-bedroomed apartment in a small town in Maine. Huh, who knew?

"It's okay, Emma. Nobody blames you," her mother comforted as she rested her head against her husband's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist.

"Was anything…was there anything recovered?"_ Like my baby blanket? _Hope was slim on that account. Mary Margaret hadn't brought it up which only made Emma feel worse. Sure she had her parents and her family now, but that blanket had been there for her through all of her life; it was the one thing that kept her sane when everything else around her crumbled to the ground. It was the only thing she owned that reminded her that, at some point, she was cared for; loved. She just wanted to have it around so that, if and when things got a little rough, she could hold it and everything would be okay for that moment.

"Not much," her father stated with sad eyes. Emma held back the tears, refusing to let her emotion take over. Just yet. Though, it was no easy task.

"Oh."

"But I did manage to find something I think you might be interested in." With a raise of his finger, Emma stayed silent, waiting. And hoping. The man broke his wife's hold and walked over to retrieve Henry's backpack leaning against the far wall. With a knowing smirk, David opened the bag and pulled out the single most important possession Emma owned.

She was sure her heart skipped a beat.

"What? How? Where…?" she breathed, taking the object in her hands and inspecting every inch of the soft material. She tentatively drew the blanket to her face, inhaling the scent. It was exactly how she remembered. "How was this saved? It's...it's perfect. It doesn't even smell like smoke."

"Henry had it," her father explained, nodding to the boy to elaborate.

"You did?"

Her son furrowed his brow in embarrassment. "I had it in my backpack."

"You had my baby blanket in your bag? Why?"

He bit his lip. "I wanted to have something of yours with me when I went to stay with my mom."

If she wasn't crying yet, she was now. Henry wanted to have a piece of her with him. How could her son just be so darn lovable?! She reached out and pushed his bangs out his eyes.

"I know I should have told you but I-"

"It's okay, kid. _Thank you _for saving this." She kissed the top of his head letting her tears drop on his hair.

Wiping away the tear stains as she moved back slowly, she turned her gaze back to her parents who looked at her with the most precious expressions she had ever known. It was like their eyes found new ways to make her feel loved with each passing day. Not that she was complaining. "So…the apartment's really gone? There's no hope for it."

Mary Margaret shook her head. "I'm afraid not." Her voice wobbled but her eyes were distant and composed.

"So where are we going to live?"

"We?" _That _forced the brunette's eyes to jump.

"Yeah," Emma smiled.

Mary Margaret threw her arm out in front of David, clutching a fistful of his shirt. "You mean you still want to live with us?"

Usually something like that would force Emma to curl inward and close-off, but not anymore. "That's what I've wanted for so long – to be under the same roof as my family. For now anyway. I'm not sure if I'd still feel the same way when I'm fifty," she deadpanned.

"You can stay with us as long as you want," her father replied with a wink.

"Well you guys gotta find a place first."

"Don't worry," Henry chirped. "Gramps and I already have a few places on the list."

"You do?"

"You _do?" _Mary Margaret repeated.

"Yep. And they all have at least three bedrooms and a big backyard."

"Okay, so why do we need a big backyard?"

"So I can play catch with Gramps!"

"And you, too, Emma," David added.

Emma laughed. "Well now I see why it's a priority. Do I get to pick out the colour-scheme for my room?" She was quite excited about the idea of decorating her room for the first time in her life. Finally she could have a room that was all hers; that was her own space.

"As long as I can have some input," her mother offered with a wry grin.

"As long as your input doesn't include pink or yellow."

"Awh, but why?"

"Because I'm twenty-eight and pink was never my colour."

The woman narrowed her eyes in mock threat. "We'll see about that."

"I wouldn't bet on it," Emma said, crossing her arms.

"I would," Henry chuckled, "nobody messes with Snow White!"

"But I'm her daughter – and nobody messes with Emma Swan," Emma noted proudly.

Nestling into her husband's torso, Mary Margaret beamed. "Then may the best woman win!"

"Oh I will," the blonde assured lightly.

* * *

Regina made an appearance not to shortly afterward but thanks to some adept persuasion on David's part, she somehow agreed to let his grandfather take him home later after they had gathered enough Intel on their choice of housing. Hey, they didn't call him Prince Charming for nothing. It was little instances like that that often made Emma wonder what her life was like before Regina was the Evil Queen.

Though Emma had insisted that Mary Margaret join them on their escapades, her mother was set on staying put. There was no swaying her; that much Emma had learned well.

As the day went on and the light gradually faded into darkness, Emma and Mary Margaret sat and just talked for hours about everything like they used to. Though both were very aware of the nature of their relationship, the easy way with which they could still talk calmed Emma. Her mother was her best friend. Her best friend was her mother.

Really for the first time, that idea didn't freak Emma out. She wasn't scared by it or confused, but so content with the situation. Mary Margaret and Snow White had previously been two separate identities but now they were one – her mother.

"So Whale said you'll be starting rehab soon?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "I'd like to see him try to get me out of this bed. The extent to which I can move is this," she said as she gestured to her seating position which was still causing her pain. Not that she'd tell her parents that. The brunette would probably go into crazy-over-protective mother mode.

"You'd be surprised. I remember when your father started rehab after his coma – he was sure he wasn't able for it, but a little encouragement went a long way."

"Let me guess: you were the one giving him the encouragement?"

Mary Margaret smirked crookedly, shaking her head. "We were cursed you know; we never did anything wrong," she defended, tossing a rolled up piece of paper at the blonde's head.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night. Is it weird seeing Whale now, you know, since you guys…"

"I told you, we're past it. We were cursed."

Emma looked at her mother with understanding. "It's still weird."

The brunette pouted and closed her eyes. "I know," she groaned.

"Well if it makes you feel any better I wish I had an excuse like that for most of the guys I've…entertained over the years."

Mary Margaret sat back in her chair, interested. "You know, we've never really talked about that."

The blonde recoiled. "And we're not going to."

"Come on, can't I know at least one thing?" Oh. The puppy dog eyes. Mary Margaret's secret weapon.

"No." Emma crossed her arms and shook her head defiantly. Unfortunately, that was the best defence she had. Most definitely something to be improved upon.

"You're really going to just cut me off without telling me anything? Not even one thing?"

"Why are you so interested?"

"Because, well, because I want to know as much about you as humanly possible. You would deprave your own mother of the chance to get to know you better?"

Oh she was good.

A little bit of guilt went a long way.

Emma narrowed her eyes in chagrin. "One question – and that's it."

The brunette's smile was just a little too victorious for her liking. "There's only one thing I want to know anyway. Were you ever in love?"

"That's what you want to know?"

"That's what I want to know."

Emma sighed. No reason in lying. "Yes. I was once. But it was a long time ago." Mary Margaret opened her mouth to speak but Emma jumped in quickly. "Ah, one question. And I answered so we can drop this now."

"For now. But don't think you'll be able to get out of it so easy again," she said, pointing at her with her pointer finger.

"I wouldn't _dream _of it."

The brunette moved forward again, resting her arms on the mattress and lowering her chin onto her locked hands. "What about Regina? Am I allowed to ask what you guys were talking about earlier?" She was much more cautious now; almost afraid to ask.

"It was nothing, really."

"If it was nothing then how come I had to leave?" Her eyebrow raised slightly, she tried not to come across as a little put-off.

"Uh that might have had something to do with the fact that you two are sworn enemies," Emma pointed out with a small laugh.

"Okay, I guess I might see your point there. But doesn't mean that you can get away with not telling me."

She was _so _persistent. Emma had never met anyone who was so relentless in their pursuit. It wasn't that she constantly pressed for information, but more about how she worded things and backed-up every question with those deep green eyes of hers that could see into the depths of the soul. Who could argue with that?

"I just thanked her, that's all. No big secret."

"Thanked her for what?" The tilt of the head on cue.

"You're really going to make me say it, aren't you? I thanked her for taking care of Henry and for protecting you and Henry from my…power, or whatever. Like it or not, she's the reason why you guys were relatively unhurt. I feel sick knowing what I did to David."

"Emma, that wasn't your fault!" her mother exclaimed, shooting upward. "You have to stop beating yourself up over this! We're okay; your father is okay. What happened was an accident. You'd never intentionally hurt us."

"I shouldn't have to worry about hurting you in the first place!" she shot back.

"_Emma Swan_," Mary Margaret painfully emphasised, "I will not have you torture yourself with this, do you hear me? Yes, something happened but what's done is done and all we can do now is move forward. There's no point in wallowing over what has taken place and I'm not letting you fall into the pity pit. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Emma responded, taken aback by how forcefully the petite woman spoke.

"Good."

"Tough love, huh? I didn't realise it was so…effective."

"Neither did I," Mary Margaret laughed. "But it's nice to know that it is."

Despite herself, Emma yawned, feeling the pressure of the past day weigh heavily on her shoulders. She was just so tired.

"I think that's my cue to leave," the woman said, slinking her arms into her winter jacket.

"Sorry, I didn't realise how tired I was," the blonde rubbed her face vigorously with her hands.

Mary Margaret took a hand and brought it down to the bed, holding onto it tightly. "It's okay, sweetie. It's been a long day." She bent over and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. "You just rest up and we'll be in to see you tomorrow."

Emma snuggled back down into her bed, enveloping herself in the blanket and watched as her mother walked towards the door. "I have one more question."

Mary Margaret stopped mid-step and turned back around to face the woman.

She took a deep breath. "Back…there, did I…did I tell you that I loved you?" She didn't need to test it; she already knew the answer.

Her mother nodded slowly.

"Well I meant it. I love you, mom."

_I love you, mom._

There was nothing else – absolutely nothing else – she wanted to hear in that moment. It was like everything they had gone through as a family, all the hardship and the pain, had dissipated leaving only this in its wake. The most perfect moment Snow could have ever imagined. She could see the tears sparkle in her daughter's eyes even from across the room and she was sure Emma could see the same for her.

She didn't care if she was crying. Or sobbing. Or laughing. Or smiling. All she cared about was that Emma, her daughter, told her that she loved her; called her 'mom'. That was all she ever wanted to hear.

"I love you too, Emma."

**Yay for a not-so angsty chapter for a change! Haha what did you all think? :) **** I want to let you guys know, as much as this makes me a little sad, that the next chapter will be the last one in this story. This story has gone in all crazy directions and there's probably a million more ways I can take it but I feel like it's the right time to let it be for a little while! **

**I really hope you guys liked this chapter and please let me know what you thought! :)**


	27. Chapter 27

**Hey all! So after kidnapping, shape-shifting, magical duels in dungeons, mirror portals, fires, comas, a boat load of dream sequences, a near-death experience, memory loss and a new home we've finally arrived at the last chapter…which makes me sad :( ****haha but I want to thank every single one of you who took the time to read, review, follow and favourite this story because you're the reason why this story went from a three-chapter idea to a 27 chapter story! So a huge, massive thank you to all of you! You guys are amazing! :)**

**Alas, I do not own OUAT.**

* * *

**A few weeks later…**

"Okay will someone please explain to me why I'm blindfolded? I'm not really big on surprises, you know. " Emma brought her hands up to her face with the intention of removing her mother's scarf from her eyes but a swift slap away from an unknown source put her in her place. She groaned. "When can I take it off?"

"When I say so," Mary Margaret ordered, unable to mask her amusement.

She was getting the hang of the assertive mother role.

Emma wished she was like that. She laid down the law with Henry when the time came but that boy had a way of wrapping around her heart and squeezing it so tight like it was about to burst. That coupled with his much improved puppy-dog eyes - Mary Margaret was _definitely _giving him pointers there - meant that it was next to impossible to discipline accordingly. She'd have to put an end to her mother's evil ways.

"Fine but can you at least tell me where we are? Or what exactly we're doing?"

"Why don't you stop asking questions and learn how to be patient?" her mother asked wryly though she lovingly ran her hand up and down the blonde's arm.

Emma was indoors – she knew that much. She was courted out of the car, flanked either side by a parent since she was still struggling with her movement and pain management, guided up some steps and brought through a doorway. And that was the extent of her knowledge.

"I've never been very good at being patient."

"I know, Emma. You don't have to wait much longer, I promise."

"Shouldn't I be dressed a little better if it's such a big surprise? I mean, look at me." She dramatically gestured to her outfit.

Needless to say, it was not a leather jacket and jeans combination.

While her burns were healing rather quickly, they were still smothered in ointment and bandage which meant wearing jeans or long-sleeved sweatshirts were out of the question. So, Emma had to wear…clothes she wouldn't usually wear. None of her small wardrobe escaped the lick of flames or the sickly stench of smoke so she had to improvise, and her parents were only too happy to help. Picking what seemed to be random items of clothing from various friends, Emma was dressed in a black tank-top, white sneakers, and an extremely questionable pair of navy tropical shorts that apparently her father left in the house where Kathryn now lived. No wonder he left them there; the palm tree and sailboat theme was rather eye-catching. To put it lightly.

"You look fine," Mary Margaret said dismissively, cupping the blonde's elbow so as to keep her steady. She was probably wavering again. Despite the progress made in rehab, Emma still hadn't mastered the art of movement yet, much to her frustration. Whale had only released her from hospital that day only for her first venture outside of the gloomy, clinical building to be whatever this little escapade was.

If she wasn't so intrigued, she would have begged for a chair to rest. Standing for long periods of time was still something she had yet to conquer.

"How can you say I look 'fine'? I'm wearing tropical shorts. _Tropical_! I didn't think anyone could get these in Maine, much less in Storybrooke."

Emma could practically hear Mary Margaret's eyes roll along with her long sigh.

"Is she still complaining?" Emma heard her father chuckle as he approached.

"Only about your shorts," Mary Margaret explained.

"Yes, _why_ do you have these?"

"We were cursed."

"That excuse is getting a little old now," Emma remarked, making her parents laugh. It was silly but it was like the sound of their laughs were in perfect harmony with one another, mingling together into one unified melodious noise. Must be a fairytale thing.

"She's getting irritated," the brunette laughed.

"Do you think we should take off the blindfold?"

"Yes! _Please _take off the blindfold!" Emma exclaimed, resisting the urge to stomp her foot and cross her arms. It was amazing how childlike she could get when she was around them.

"You heard the girl, Snow."

Emma felt the tug of the scarf and felt the weight of the fabric lift off her face, allowing her skin to breathe. She blinked purposefully a few times before taking in her surroundings.

They were in a house.

They stood in a vast hardwood-floored foyer where, what appeared to be, the living area to the left and the dining room to the right with the staircase situated in front of them. The walls were a light biscuit colour with white skirting boards and door frames and the long, slim windows on either side of the door spilled the perfect amount of light into the area. It was officially the nicest, most expensive house Emma had ever walked into in her whole life and she hadn't even seen the rest of it yet. And she'd been in a lot of houses.

"Where are we?" Slowly clenching her fist to distract away from the itching of a burn on her hand, Emma faced her parents. Although she was almost positive of the answer, she needed to hear it from them.

Taking each other's hands, Mary Margaret and David exchanged a smile before looking at the blonde. "It's our home," the brunette breathed.

_Our home. _

"You guys _bought_ this house?" Emma wasn't aware that any dwelling of this calibre even existed in Storybrooke – besides the mayor's mansion of course. For one, it was huge; the ceiling might as well have been the sky it was that tall and the epic floor space extended all around them.

David nodded. "A couple of weeks ago, actually. As soon as your mom walked through the door, I knew I was taking out my cheque book," he said lightly, making sure to flash his wife a winning smile in the process.

"It was exactly what I wanted; what I dreamed of," her mother commented. Her eyes flitted to each corner, most likely envisioning where she was going to put everything. The possibilities were endless.

Emma lived in hope Mary Margaret wouldn't rope her into doing any of that. Something told her that her mother would be very…particular. Interior design wasn't really her thing anyway. The closest she had come to that was figuring out the best place to stack her boxes which usually ended up the same way every time - a leaning tower in a corner.

"You guys bought a house and you didn't think to mention it?" She wasn't angry; just genuinely curious.

"We wanted to surprise you," her father clarified.

"So what do you think?" Mary Margaret directed at her, focusing her attention back on Emma.

Emma slowly ambled over to the stairs and used the bannister for support, leaning her body gently against the wood. Her back still wasn't in top form just yet. "I think it's perfect."

It was no secret that the brunette's eyes glimmered in the light and even David looked somewhat emotional – though in fairness, he was doing that a lot lately. On more than several occasions Emma had caught him on the verge of tears, usually after she had called him 'Dad'. She was still in the process of testing out 'Mom' and 'Dad'; sometimes forming the words was like trying to speak in a different language. She had to warm herself into it with practice even though she slipped up at times and call them by their names. If they did mind, they never showed it.

Ah well, Rome wasn't built in a day. In time, Emma knew they would become part of her everyday vocabulary.

"Do you want to see your room?" he posed, breaking away from his wife and stepping over to help Emma upright.

_Your room. _

She had her own room. In her own house. With her parents.

Talk about surreal.

"Lead the way Prince Charming," she gestured to her father. Being the oh-so-charming man he was, David angled his elbow so that Emma could link him and placed a hand behind his back, ready to court her up the stairs.

But before Emma mounted the first step, she looked over her shoulder to Mary Margaret who seemed lost in her own faraway land. "Eh, mom? Little help here."

There it was again. As soon as the word 'Mom' hit her eardrum, she automatically smiled and tears flooded her eyes. If Emma wasn't so lost in her mother's loving expression, she would have sighed. Or rolled her eyes. Or raised her eyebrow.

Or all of the above.

The best she could do was angle her elbow too and assume that the brunette would know what she was suggesting.

Eventually she did - but it took an extra few seconds.

* * *

_Mom. _

The way Emma said it so casually made her heart flutter. She'd been addressing both her and David by their respective titles at least once a day and each and every time Snow felt this rush of affection wash over her. Just when she thought there was no possible way she could love Emma any more, her daughter said or did something that made her love her even more – more than she ever thought a parent could love their child. It didn't matter if Emma was the same age as her or that they were friends before the curse broke or that navigating the waters of their relationship wasn't exactly easy – her love for her was unconditional and somehow grew with the passing days.

Quite incredible really.

And as she joined arms with her and saw the light in Emma's eyes spark for a fleeting second, Snow knew it was exactly where she was meant to be.

Thankfully the task of climbing the staircase wasn't as nearly as daunting as Snow had expected. Emma had been improving everyday but a flight of stairs was a big ask and Snow worried about how her daughter would handle it. With every step, the brunette stole a look out of the corner of her eye to gain an idea to any discomfort Emma was feeling and tightened her hold on her arm to assure her that she was going to be okay. That was all she could do.

They guided her down the wide hallway, stopping at the second door on the right. "You ready to see your room?" His hand on the doorknob, Charming waited expectantly.

"You guys realise I'm not a kid, right? It's just a room," Emma answered, raising her shoulder like it was no big deal. Snow knew otherwise. She knew how much this meant to her not-so-little girl. A room wasn't just a room to Emma; it was a promise. A promise that she had a home, and a place within that home. More importantly, it was a promise that she was loved and that she belonged.

"Okay then. Charming will you do the honours?"

David turned the handle and pushed the door wide open. "After you," he said to Emma.

With forced nonchalance, Emma led the way, a bashful smile dancing on her lips.

* * *

She didn't want to make a big deal out of it but the whole idea of having her own room made her giddy. She was pretty sure she hid it well though.

Well, she hoped she did anyway.

Holding her breath, she purposely stepped into the room, not really sure what to expect or how to feel. But it didn't matter because as soon as her eyes appraised the room, she was blown away.

Emma assumed it would just be an empty space with perhaps a bed and a dresser but this…this was something else. Yes there was a bed but it was one of those four-poster beds with a canopy she had only ever seen on television or in pictures of swanky hotels that she could never afford to stay in. There was a large dresser decorated with small objects and a long mirror on one side of the room and a bay window on the other. The wardrobe extended across the wall around her bed giving the room a more homely, cosy feel.

She threw her hands up to her chest and started circling, taking in every detail. Pictures of Henry and her parents and friends were stuck on certain parts of the wall, a white shag rug lay on the floorboards, her baby blanket was draped over the covers of her bed, and the walls were a cheerful, warm cream.

Well two of the walls were at least. The wall that surrounded the bay window was a sugary pink complete with a personalised border.

The affirmation Emma had wanted her whole life was showcased over the window. If she wasn't being so careful she would have cried right on the spot. In elegant script, 'Emma' was strewn across the wall.

Her parents had done this for her; somehow they had known what she had wanted all of these years. The bold personalisation was like a stamp of love. A stamp that approved. A stamp that told her she belonged.

She regained her composure and turned to face her parents who looked a mixture of wariness and delight. Oh, and they were crying. But that was nearly a given anyway.

"A pink wall?" Emma asked with a shaky breath.

Mary Margaret's smile was so wide that it looked as though her jaw was about to dislocate. "I couldn't help myself. Every princess needs something pink in her room."

"We know it's not really a room that a regular twenty-eight year old would have but we just-"

"No," Emma interrupted timidly, "it's…amazing. All of this is amazing. I can't believe you guys would do all this for me." Her hands were trembling now but she locked them together and held them close to her chest.

"You can do it up and rearrange it whatever way you like, we were just experimenting and figuring out where things should go but this space is yours so you can have it any way you want," he continued, moving further into the room.

"There is one condition though," Mary Margaret remarked, placing a hand on Emma's shoulder.

"Is it about the pink wall?"

She tilted her head to either side before answering. "Yes and no. The 'Emma' stays there. Forever."

Emma looked at her, taken aback by her seriousness.

"This is your room, Emma. And it always will be."

Her eyes examined each letter individually and this time she wasn't quick enough to blink back the tears. The blonde could count on one hand the times she had been rendered speechless and right then she had _nothing. _The public declaration of their affection had knocked her ability to formulate sentences.

"You don't like it," her mother assumed, misunderstanding her silence.

Emma sniffed and wiped away the tears. "No, I, uh, I'm just…it's…" She hesitated. "No one's ever done anything like this for me before."

Mary Margaret's face crumpled with emotion.

"Before you two start crying again," David interjected as brightly as he could as he raised a hand in authority and drew attention to himself, "I think we should give Emma a little tour of her room."

She arched an eyebrow. "A tour?"

Her father's shoulders slumped momentarily. "Just go with it."

"As long as I can sit down I'm in."

Mary Margaret giggled. "Yes, you can sit, sweetie."

_Sweetie._

Yep, terms of endearment were going to take longer to get used to.

Emma didn't need to be told twice; she mounted herself onto the edge of her bed, letting her legs dangle just before the floor. She wisped her hand though the air signalling for David to proceed.

"Okay so I like to pride myself on having a pretty good knowledge of the female mind-"

"Really, Charming? _That's _what you're leading with?"

He cleared his throat. "Fine. Why don't I just show you?" Dancing around his wife's petite frame, David stalked over to a door next to the wardrobe that Emma didn't notice until then. With added dramatics, he flung open the door to expose Emma's very own bathroom. "Voila! Your very own personal bathroom!"

"Are you serious?"

"Yes I am. Since you women take forever in the bathroom and hold up the rest of us, your own personal space means there's a better chance of me actually being able to get ready in the morning."

"Uh, Charming, you're forgetting one teeny tiny important detail," Mary Margaret pointed out with a sly smirk.

"And what's that?"

"_You're _the one who takes the most time getting ready."

Emma burst out laughing at her father's shocked but totally caught-out face.

"I do not," he protested weakly, his face turning red.

Mary Margaret lowered herself onto the bed next to Emma, crossing her legs in one swift movement. She leaned in closer to the blonde as if to spill some juicy secret. "Let's just say that Regina wasn't the first one in our weird family tree to have a shine for mirrors," she whispered candidly, using all of the muscles in her face to keep it straight.

"Moving swiftly on," David boomed self-consciously, closing the door and marching around the bed, "take a look at this." He pulled open the doors of the wardrobe.

"Wait, what?" Emma rose awkwardly to her feet and walked over to meet him. Inside was a stack of tops and jeans, and hanging from a metal bar – a red leather jacket. "Wha-how?"

"Well we obviously couldn't buy you a whole new wardrobe because that would be a little weird," the brunette giggled from behind her. "But you had no clothes so Ruby and I took it on ourselves to do some shopping."

Emma winced around. "But how did you know what size I was?"

Her mother shot her a look that said, 'Are you kidding me?' "Emma, I've been doing your laundry for almost a year now – of course I know what size you are."

Well that made sense. The blonde reached out and removed the jacket off the hanger, feeling the cool material in her hand.

"Red's my colour, too," her father observed happily. "Like father, like daughter."

"I guess so," she smiled back.

He tentatively brushed back hair off her shoulder and beamed tenderly. Leaning forward to conspire, his voice was low. "Do you want to know what the best part of the room is?"

"I'm sure you're going to tell me."

He grinned crookedly, gesturing for Mary Margaret to move aside. "This." With a small step forward, he launched himself into the air and landed theatrically in the centre of her bed, his arms and legs spread widely. "I've always wanted to do that," he sighed in content.

"Hey, no fair! You know I can't jump yet!"

"That's why I did it, Emma. I did it _for you."_

"Oh no you didn't!" Snow scoffed. "He did the same thing in our room," she told the blonde.

"Whatever," David grumbled, hoisting his body off the bed and back onto his feet. "Don't think I don't know what you two are up to," he warned playfully.

"And what would that be?" Though not planned, both Emma and Mary Margaret crossed their arms at the same time, resting their weight on their left legs.

"Okay, that was creepy," David pointed out.

Agreeing with the man's sentiment, Emma shifted position meekly.

"You were saying, Charming?"

He pointed at them knowingly. "You're going to gang up on me. You think that just because you two are like some mother-daughter tag-team duo that you can just push me around and get your way around here, but let me tell you something: I will not be easily moved." His shoulders back and chin high, David clasped his hands seemingly pleased with himself.

"Whatever makes you feel better, honey," Mary Margaret teased as she closed the gap between them.

Much to Emma's relief, her young son bounding into the room disturbed any kind of mushy romantic moment her parents were about to embark on. Even though being around them was becoming much more comfortable than she ever thought possible, watching them make lovey-dovey eyes at one another still made her wish she could permanently remove those instances from her mind. Well, they _were _her parents – embarrassing their daughter was in the job description.

Henry skidded to a stop in front of Emma and gently wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Hey, kid," she greeted, not exactly sure where he came from. "What are you doing here? I thought you were staying with Regina this week?" Though no official arrangement had been drawn up, Emma and Regina had agreed to split time since Emma still wasn't back to full health just yet and Henry was due to be with her for the next couple of days.

"I am," he replied, pulling back, "but I asked her if I could hang out here for a while. She'll collect me later. What do you think of your room? Pretty awesome, right?"

"Yeah kid, it is," the blonde concurred.

David draped an arm around the boy's shoulder and drew him into his chest. "Aha!" he declared smugly. "Now we're even; two against two. It's nice to have another man around the house."

It was clear that Henry had absolutely no idea why his grandfather was so delighted to see him but he was overjoyed just the same. Henry didn't really have any father figures in his life and Emma was more than happy that he had David now.

"What do you say, buddy; you wanna play catch?"

The kid's face lit up. "Yeah!" he exclaimed, running out of the room with an equally excited grandfather right behind him.

Emma let out a soft snicker as she meandered over to the window and took a look out. Just as her father wanted – a huge backyard. "I guess David got his wish," she mumbled quietly.

"You can say that again." Emma twirled back around to see Mary Margaret fixing the mess the man had made. She gracefully fluffed the pillows and made the bed up to look like it had never been touched. "So…you really like it? Your room?" She smoothed down the sheets with her back to the blonde.

"I love it."

"Really?" The brunette finally met her eyes. "You're not just saying that? Because if you don't like it we can change it; start from scratch if that's what you want." She was babbling and it was those infrequent moments of self-doubt that showed Emma that the Mary Margaret she had known and loved was very much still there beneath the more confident personality and wardrobe.

"No, honestly, this – all of it – is amazing. I've never felt like I've had my own room before. When I was younger I always shared with other kids and then when I got older I moved around so much that no place was ever home – until I got to Storybrooke. My room in your apartment was the first time I had ever felt connected to somewhere." She shuffled over and sat on the bed, putting creases in her mother's hard work. Mary Margaret's eyes never left hers. "As a kid I always dreamt of living in a big house with a white picket fence and huge rooms and yes, a massive backyard to play in but mostly I envisioned having a family and just doing normal family things. It was the little things I wished for: closing the door to my own bedroom and lying on my bed watching television, going into the kitchen and actually being able to take food and eat it without anyone else's permission, hanging out with my mom and going shopping. I know I don't look like the type who wanted all that kind of stuff but when I was kid, I would have given anything for that." She stopped herself, the pricking of tears alerting her. She wasn't expecting to open up. "But…now I have it all – complete with the ultimate bedroom. And it's all because of you guys so, yes, Mom, I love it."

"I'll talk to Charming about putting up a white picket fence."

Emma shoved the woman good-naturedly with her shoulder. "Were you not listening to anything I just said?" she joked.

Mary Margaret returned the smile but then became thoughtful, her brow furrowing slightly. "You wouldn't believe how animated your father got when I suggested we decorate your room. I hadn't seen him throw himself into something so whole-heartedly since…well, since doing your nursery. It was nice to do something like that again for you; at least you get to spend a night in this one." She let out an unsure laugh but Emma knew that was still something her mother struggled with every day; she just wished that there was something she could do to make it all better.

"Well it's pretty incredible." Emma thought about that for a silent moment, casting her mind to all the things her parents had been through with her. "_You guys_ are pretty incredible."

The brunette's expression pressed for her to continue.

"I mean, just think of all the things we've been through since the curse broke – it's been a crazy few months. But somehow you both remained so strong, never once giving up or thinking that we couldn't get through it together. Until I met you, I've never witnessed that kind of faith before; the belief that everything would be okay against all odds. I don't know how you do it."

"It's not as easy as it looks. There's been plenty of times when I haven't been as hopeful. I wasn't very strong when you lost your memory. In fact, I was a shell of myself; I don't think Charming had ever seen me that way. But he reminded me that having faith in you was the most important thing because not having faith meant I had given up on you and that's something I will _never _do. And then I realized that there was nothing our family couldn't face as long as we're together; that together, we'll always be able to find our way. That's something you have to believe, Emma." Mary Margaret pulled back the drape of blonde hair that obscured Emma's face from her view. "No matter what problem you face, no matter how impossible it may seem or how bleak the outcome looks, you won't ever have to deal with it alone. Together, as a family, we'll get through it. And if my memory serves me correctly, you've never given up on me, either. Not when I was just Mary Margaret but when I was Snow White. You constantly fought for me." Running her hand through the blonde locks, the brunette's eyes burned with nothing but love. Emma couldn't look away. "I'd say you're pretty incredible too, Emma Swan and I couldn't be prouder." She pressed a small kiss to her temple. "I love you, Em."

A watery smile creeping onto her face, the blonde wrapped her arms around her mother, embracing her tightly. "I love you too, Mom."

* * *

With Mary Margaret preparing the dinner, Emma decided to take a better look at the backyard and see what Henry and David were up to. Opening the French doors from the kitchen, Emma stepped out into the damp Storybrooke air.

David wasn't joking; the backyard was massive. Apart from the little porch area on which she was standing and the two steps down into the garden, it was a sea of green grass, flowing in the slight breeze.

In the centre of the sea stood a buoyant Henry tossing a baseball back at David and then he to him, every time complementing or congratulating him on a good throw or swing. Emma couldn't help but smile at how vibrant her son was as he ran for each ball as if his life depended on it. It was one of her father's tad-too-powerful-for-a-kid throws that made him realize they had an audience.

"Oh, hey Mom," her son beamed, collecting the ball.

"You guys seem to be having fun."

"I'm not very good at it," he confessed sheepishly.

"What makes you say that? You're doing great."

"I've never played before."

"Well, I have and I know for a fact that I wasn't as good as that when I played for the first time."

"Really?" His eyes grew wide in anticipation.

"Really," she confirmed, running her hand through his hair.

Just then the sound of the back door creaking open caught their attention. Mary Margaret curled her head around the door and called for Henry to come and help her in the kitchen and boy gladly offered his services. Such a great kid.

He gave Emma a quick hug before springing into action inside.

"I didn't know you played catch before," her father said, walking over to her.

Emma sat down on the steps and leaned back on her good hand, her curly locks falling around her. "I used to play baseball with some of the guys back in the system. They weren't too thrilled with the prospect of playing with a girl but when they realized that I was better than half the guys, I was hot property."

"I bet," the man laughed, sitting down cross-legged on the grass to face her. With a mischievous glint in his eye he pitched the ball toward her, giving Emma just enough reaction time to block it away from hitting her right in the stomach.

"Hey!" she grunted. The burn on her hand sizzled under the bandage with the impact. "That hurt."

David scrunched his face. "Sorry."

"Oh, you're gonna be." Emma plucked up the ball and flung it as hard as she could towards him, smacking him right in the left shoulder.

He jerked his arm back, seemingly surprised by its force. "Wow," he said as he rubbed his arm, "you've got some arm on you." Even though he sounded in pain, he was impressed.

Emma shrugged.

"So you liked sports when you were younger?"

"Yeah. I preferred them than playing with dolls."

"What did you play?"

"Mostly just baseball and basketball. I tried football but I was _way _too uncoordinated to play that," she chuckled.

He shot his eyebrows up to indicate that he was going to throw the ball back to her and this time she was ready to catch it. "What about you? I know you didn't have the classic American pastimes in the Enchanted Forest but what did you do for fun when you were younger?" She lobbed the ball back to him.

"Not much really. I loved being outdoors so I used to hike and go for walks. Scout the area. I was shepherd so most of my time was spent tending to the flock." Again, he passed the ball back to her and she hurled it back at him.

"Oh yeah. Sometimes I forget that you weren't always a Prince."

"So do I."

"How did you, you know, get so good at sword fighting and riding horses and all that royal stuff?" She kind of felt silly asking a question like that but she couldn't deny how interested she was in getting to know her father better.

"Practice, I guess. I didn't really have a choice; it was either become my brother or have myself and my mother killed. There's no incentive like a price on your head."

"Still, it must have been tough to learn all that stuff. I know when I first picked up a sword I was petrified. I'm more of a gun girl," she surmised.

"And yet you've defeated a dragon. That was the first thing I fought with a sword in my hand." He threw the ball to her again.

"It was? I guess we have a few more things in common than I thought." She flipped it back to him.

"We got a lot of catching up to do."

"Yeah, we do," Emma grinned consciously.

They spent the next few minutes in silence just enjoying each other's company chucking the ball back to one another in a steady rhythm. There was something so comfortable about being around her father; the gentle easy way with which he held himself was something she greatly admired and knowing that he wanted to spend time with her and get to know her was one the best feelings she had ever felt.

But a muffled call from Henry from behind closed doors broke the silence and meant one thing: dinner was ready.

The man looked down at the baseball in his hand. "I just played catch with my daughter," he breathed incredulously.

Emma raised her shoulders, self-aware, but finding that truth just as remarkable.

Pulling himself up to his feet, David offered her his hand in aid. She took it without a second thought. "Thanks, Dad."

He paused for a beat, relishing the word. "No problem, Em."

And as Emma entered the house with her Dad and joined her Mom and her son at the dinner table, she felt an overwhelming sense of calm; like there was nowhere else in the world she could experience that amount of love and respect. And even though there were countless things to discuss and no doubt many problems and troubles to face ahead, right there in that moment, Emma was just happy they could breathe easy for a few minutes and push their complicated family issues aside for a little while.

**So there it is – the end! Again, thank you all soooo much! I hope it wasn't terrible and you all enjoyed it! I figured I couldn't leave it without showing them in their new house **** I've really loved writing this story and I've loved hearing what you all thought about it and who knows, maybe I'll end up doing a sequel soon? Or a whole different Charming family story?**

**So I hope you all liked the ending and if you have time please review and let me know what you thought :)**

**Until next time! :)**


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